


Archangel

by SupercityCarnival



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Archangel - Freeform, Badass Women, F/F, Rocinante - Freeform, razorback
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 66,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25807048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupercityCarnival/pseuds/SupercityCarnival
Summary: Sequel to Chaos Brings Us Together.Chrisjen, Bobbie, and the crew of the Rocinante work to find Marco Inaros and bring him to justice. Various situations on their adventure force Chrisjen and Bobbie to evaluate what they truly mean to each other.
Relationships: Chrisjen Avasarala & Bobbie Draper, Chrisjen Avasarala/Bobbie Draper
Comments: 43
Kudos: 65





	1. Luna Disrupted

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Chaos Brings Us Together](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24822523) by [SupercityCarnival](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupercityCarnival/pseuds/SupercityCarnival). 



Luna orbited Earth some four hundred thousand kilometers away. It was the planet's only natural satellite, holding a distinct and constant trajectory about her since the dawn of time. To look at it from Earth's surface was to think it might be beautiful. It was bright in the reflection of the sun, often changing its hue with the tide, or the season, or the weather. The moon brought a consistency to Earth's climate and, more importantly, controlled the planet's wobble by drawing its axis. Earth needed Luna. As the centuries passed, it needed Luna more and more. 

Mankind had first explored the small white marble in the mid twentieth century. Only a hundred years later, humans returned to create the system's first extraterrestrial colony. By the mid twenty-second century, Earth was so overpopulated, it turned to Luna for salvation. With over thirty billion inhabitants, Earth was granted a reprieve when a billion of them settled on the celestial structure. One hundred and fifty years later, it served as a base of operations for the Inner Planetary Alliance, and a way station between the inner planets and the Belt. 

The lunar surface was one of the most inhospitable places in the galaxy. Temperatures ranged from below freezing to scalding. It was constantly plagued with a battering of micro meteors. There was no atmosphere to speak of. All these factors drove the colony of Luna underground. Now, the lunar satellite boasted one of the most sophisticated and advanced subterranean networks ever created. 

Luna was a hub for interplanetary commerce. It housed headquarters for various corporations as well as universities and industrial complexes. It also served many political purposes, bringing together the politics of Earth, Mars, and factions from the Belt. It was a natural meeting place.

That's what had brought Chrisjen Avasarala to Luna. After her defeat by the slimmest of margins in the election for Secretary General of the United Nations, she and her team were now working with the opposition's transition team, getting them as well prepared as possible for the most impossible job in the system. For Chrisjen, it was her last opportunity to influence the policies of Earth. 

She didn't like having to spend a lot of time on Luna. She missed the sun terribly and hated the harsh lighting of the underground housings. The digital displays from the surface did little to alleviate the feeling of isolation that came with not being able to look out a window. Despite the artificial gravity, Chrisjen always felt like she was wasting away somehow. Once you lived in a place with no natural gravity, you quickly realized why Lunars and Belters were so slender, the lack of gravity heavily affecting bone and muscle mass. 

Sitting at the vanity in her apartment bedroom, Chrisjen prepared for the day. She put her makeup on absentmindedly, her thoughts anywhere but on the day's agenda. She had been here with her team for weeks now and, though the transition meetings were drawing to a close, Chrisjen found herself overly anxious to be done. After all, there were more important things to get to. 

Pulling open a drawer, she sifted through a couple dozen sets of earrings before settling on one. She put them on and inspected herself in the mirror, smoothing her fingers over her hair, which was swept into a long braid and twisted up. She stood and began pulling at the yards of fabric that lay on the floor behind her. Soon her sari was expertly folded and wrapped together. Before heading out of the bedroom, she went over to the bed. 

Tugging at the blankets, she made it up quickly. She only needed to fix one side. Glancing to the other side, perfectly intact, Chrisjen sighed slightly. The sun wasn't the only thing she missed terribly. Bobbie Draper had been gone for three weeks, aboard the _Rocinante_ with Holden and crew. 

The _Roci_ finally returned to Earth from Ilus and rendezvoused with Chrisjen and Bobbie at Luna only a few days after the election. As Chrisjen, Bobbie, James, Naomi, Amos, and Alex had reunited, the two women shared with the crew their desire to track down Marco Inaros and bring him to justice. They all agreed and began hatching a plan to find him. 

Then they had all left on the _Rocinante_ , chasing down leads all over the Sol leaving Chrisjen to deal with politicians. Hopefully, they would be returning soon, though it wouldn't be soon enough for Chrisjen. 

The first week had been easy to take. She was busy with the transition and time passed quickly. The second week was more difficult. The empty bed bothered her. She and Bobbie had only been together for a couple months and Chrisjen couldn't believe how quickly she'd gotten accustomed to being held at night. For years, she thought it was stress and pressure that had kept her from sleeping well. Apparently, all she needed was simple affection for a good night's rest. As the days passed, she missed their easy banter and having someone to talk things out with. These last few days had been awful. Chrisjen didn't realize she even had the emotional capacity to miss a person the way she missed Bobbie. 

With a frustrated huff, Chrisjen left the bedroom. Her security team would be knocking at the door soon. Snatching up her handheld terminal, she scrolled through various documents she would need that day. 

Suddenly, a quiet beep from the wall mounted terminal signaled an incoming message. Glancing to the screen, Chrisjen's expression brightened at seeing Incoming Call from Bobbie Draper. She quickly swiped toward the screen to answer. 

Bobbie's face came on the screen and Chrisjen couldn't help the happy smile that came to her lips. At seeing it, Bobbie's own lips quirked into a small smile. It took both women a moment to remember how to speak. They hadn't seen each other's countenances in too many days and they were each content to simply take the other in for a second. 

When they did speak, they both spoke at once, mirroring each other's words with, "How are you?" Then both echoing with, "You first." 

With a small chuckle, Chrisjen simply asked, "Well?" 

"We're all good here, ma'am," Bobbie answered. Something about the more formal title always made Chrisjen feel safe, taking her back to when Bobbie had been one of her bodyguards. She still used it in more professional settings when colleagues were around. "We found some encrypted data that we believe holds the key to Marco's plan." Bobbie tapped a button on her console. "Sending it your way now," she said. 

"How did you acquire it?" Chrisjen asked, as her handheld buzzed the data's arrival. 

With a closed-lipped grin, Bobbie answered, "The _Razorback's_ new mods have been very helpful. I can't wait to tell you about it." 

A little stung, Chrisjen inquired, "Who's been flying with you?" She knew that if Bobbie was using the _Razor's_ modifications, she must have a copilot. 

"Alex," she replied, but quickly caught the reason for the question. "Of course, the _Razor _and I both prefer you in the second chair."__

__"Good answer," Chrisjen said. "Tell me you're on your way back."_ _

__With a nod, Bobbie told her. "Should be docking at Luna day after tomorrow."_ _

__Closing her eyes briefly, Chrisjen exhaled a relieved breath. Gazing at Bobbie, she asked, "So, how is my beautiful Martian?"_ _

__Eyes dropping down as they always did at that particular compliment, Bobbie tried to hide the flush in her cheeks. Leaning back in her seat and turning her head, as if to be sure she was alone, Bobbie looked back to the screen._ _

__"Missing you," she answered softly._ _

__"Me too."_ _

__"How's it going with Gao?"_ _

__Chrisjen scoffed. "How can you teach a child to run a fucking planet?" She asked, sarcastic. Not caring about the entire reason she was even on Luna, Chrisjen said, "Fuck Nancy Gao. Tell me more about how you miss me."_ _

__Breathing out a small laugh, Bobbie countered with, "How 'bout I show you when I get back."_ _

__"Acceptable compromise." Just then, the knock she'd been expecting sounded at Chrisjen's door. "Fuck."_ _

__"Time to go?"_ _

__With a small nod, she confirmed, "Thank God this is almost over. I can't handle the fucking looks of incompetence much longer."_ _

__Another tiny smile and Bobbie said, "I'll let you go." Smile fading, she finished with a serious, almost shy, "I can't wait to see you."_ _

__"Me neither."_ _

__With a last lingering glance, Bobbie tapped the button to end the transmission. Another knock came at the door._ _

__Her own smile leaving her face, Chrisjen rolled her eyes dramatically. "Hold your goddamned horses!" She shouted._ _

__********************_ _

__On the other side of the transmission, Bobbie Draper sank back into her chair, eyes on the now blank screen. She let her head fall back on the headrest and clung to the notion that at least the next time she talked to Chrisjen, it would be in person._ _

__Shifting from her seat, Bobbie moved to exit the _Roci's_ pilot alcove. Pulling herself along through zero G, she made her way to the command deck. They usually had the artificial gravity engaged, but right now they were feeding all the extra power to the thrusters to get to Luna as quickly as possible. _ _

__Bobbie floated down the access ladder and found Naomi at the large console in the center of the command deck. She had opened the encrypted data file and was looking over it. Maneuvering her feet to the floor, Bobbie pressed her heels into it, using her mag boots to anchor herself._ _

__Coming up to the opposite side of the console, Bobbie asked, "What can you make of it?"_ _

__Naomi shook her head, discouraged. "Absolutely nothing." She looked up at Bobbie. "Avasarala better be able to find someone who can unlock it."_ _

__With a single, confident nod, Bobbie confirmed, "She will."_ _

__James came up to them. "Opening these files is our only hope of being able to keep up this chase," he said._ _

__With a sigh, Naomi commented, "Seems more and more like it's turning into a wild goose chase." She looked at James. "Did I use that right?"_ _

__Holden grinned. "Yes, you used it right."_ _

__"What the fuck is a wild goose chase?" Bobbie inquired, annoyed._ _

__Holden began, "It's a saying on Earth, it's when…" He trailed off, noting Bobbie's irritated expression. "Nevermind."_ _

__Amos slipped up beside them and looked at Bobbie. "Did you tell her we'd be there in a couple days?"_ _

__With a roll of her eyes, Bobbie nodded. "Yes, and she said she was very much looking forward to seeing you."_ _

__He smiled happily. "She did?"_ _

__He was met with a chorus of groans to which Holden answered, "I have a feeling she was being sarcastic."_ _

__Amos looked at Bobbie, who simply raised her eyebrows at him. Messing with her, he said, "I think she likes me."_ _

__"Yeah, well, she likes me more."_ _

__He held up the wrench that was in his hand. He'd come up from the engine room. Pointing it at her, he said, "Not when she sees what you did to the _Razor's_ exterior." _ _

__Bobbie breathed out a slow breath and agreed with a hesitant, "Yeah."_ _

__It wasn't too much damage, a scrape really. You probably wouldn't even have noticed on the old paint job. But with the new black matte stealth finish, it stood out like a black hole, not to mention it compromised the technology. Amos was right, Chrisjen wouldn't be happy. It had become obvious when Bobbie had been preparing to leave in it with the _Rocinante_ that the older woman had become quite fond of the little pinnace. _ _

__The ship's tiny wound had happened when Bobbie and Alex got the _Razorback_ just a hair too close to it's target. They hadn't had a choice. In the weeks they'd been chasing Marco, they had realized that one of his favored methods of avoiding detection was disguising old ships as new ones, like he'd done with the _Sojourner.__ _

__Following the trail of breadcrumbs they still weren't sure whether he was leaving on purpose or not had led them to an old freighter. The call sign said one thing, but to confirm if it truly was said boat required they check the paint job._ _

__Bobbie had pulled the _Razor_ so close, her heart had been pounding out of her chest. At that proximity, a railgun would've torn the small boat to bits. Thankfully the Martian stealth tech was perfect and they went completely undetected. She had finessed the controls to the best of her ability so that they hovered alongside the vessel. It had only taken a second to see the scraped off paint underneath the new call sign. It had, indeed, been one of Marco's vessels. Unfortunately, pulling away from the boat hadn't proved as smooth and Bobbie had nudged the _Razor_ a little too close to an overhanging panel. The metal scraping sound made her stomach sick. _ _

__However, they had discovered they were on the track, and they had been for weeks. Finally, they had encountered an abandoned ship of Marco's and had pulled the encrypted data package off it. It had been left as if waiting for someone and the crew had debated whether or not to take it. If someone were to come looking and it was gone, it might arouse suspicion. But the intel on it could be incredibly valuable. Bobbie had every confidence that, with all her connections, Chrisjen could find a way to unlock it._ _

__As the crew dispersed back to their individual tasks, stepping away from the command deck's center console, Bobbie checked the time for the hundredth time. Less than forty-eight hours and she'd be back with the woman she never should've left in the first place. She'd been promising herself since she flew away from Luna that it would be the last time she left Chrisjen's side._ _

__********************_ _

__Meanwhile, back on Luna, Chrisjen and her team were making their way to one of the last meetings that would transition the leadership of the UN from Chrisjen Avasarala to Nancy Gao._ _

__Chrisjen's feelings were mixed. This had been one of the most humbling and hard experiences she'd had in her professional life. Every bit of it cut deep. Every smug look from the other team, every time someone shot down one of her aide's recommendations, each time they discussed policy and Chrisjen practically had to pull out a textbook to show them how the ins and outs of politics or the economy or interplanetary alliance worked, Chrisjen felt a rage boiling in her at the stupidity of whatever idiots had voted for these people._ _

__On the other hand, she remembered being inexperienced and too cocky for her own good too. Hell, she still was. It was her duty to see to it that this new leadership was as well equipped as possible. She would see to it no matter how much it tried her patience._ _

__She and her entourage moved through the maze of corridors and levels that made up Luna's underground network. There were a dozen security team members flanking them, all radioing information back at the appropriate time. Doors and corners, after all. Caleb Ghazi remained by her side at all times when they moved through Luna's massive belly. He'd made it clear that being locked in the underground made him nervous. He and his team had been on high alert every minute of every day for weeks on end now._ _

__Soon, they came out into a large concourse, one they covered every morning on their way to the conference hall. People moved all about, heading to work, or coming home from work. Caleb spoke into the radio at his wrist every once in a while, instructing the team to keep the way ahead of them clear._ _

__Chrisjen tapped away at her handheld device while they went, checking messages and allowing Caleb to direct her. They had both grown accustomed to this dance. She was always looking at her console. There was always a message to reply to or a paper to read or a call to answer. Chrisjen would simply walk straight ahead while engaged in her work. Caleb, always vigilant, would take her arm and pull her back into line with the rest of the team. When they made a turn down a hall or walkway, he would put a hand on her ribcage and push her where she needed to go. It was familiar and comfortable to Chrisjen. She never questioned him. She just allowed herself to be led. She trusted him._ _

__So, when he wrapped his fingers tightly around her upper arm, almost painfully, and yanked her to a stop, her gaze popped up to see him watching a certain direction. The whole team was brought to a stand still. Her eyes followed his and she stole the briefest glance of a slender man dressed in a black jumpsuit. She narrowed her eyes as he disappeared._ _

__Quietly, she asked, "Was that an OPA uniform?"_ _

__Without answering, he spoke into the device at his wrist. "Let's alter course," he said. "Secure this corridor to the right, and hurry, I don't like being out in the open like this."_ _

__He moved Chrisjen, her aides, and the few military personnel with them toward the new route. Chrisjen looked all around, her senses coming to life with a slight rush in adrenaline. Caleb still had a firm grip on her arm and it disquieted her. She looked to one of the upper levels, her eyes immediately drawn to another black jumpsuit._ _

__"Ghazi," she said._ _

__He looked up. "Yeah, I got him." He started walking faster. "Secure the fucking passageway," he said into the comm._ _

__"What's happening?" Chrisjen asked, becoming increasingly uneasy, her heart rate beginning to quicken._ _

__"Something doesn't feel right," was his only response. After all they'd been through together, she trusted his instincts._ _

__As the large group drew closer to a set of doors that would lead them out of the much too busy concourse, it was suddenly cut off by two men in Outer Planet Alliance uniforms. Chrisjen was confused, but she couldn't place exactly why. Why would the OPA be here? They all stopped moving and Caleb carefully pulled Chrisjen behind him, putting himself between her and the would be offenders. He reached for his sidearm._ _

__All the sudden, everything moved in slow motion as Chrisjen's brain processed what happened next. The two OPA men unzipped their flight suits to reveal vests rigged with explosives. Chrisjen's eyes widened. She looked back to the man she'd seen at the second floor railing above them. He too had opened his uniform and donned another explosive vest. All three pulled a small device from their pockets._ _

__The next thing she knew, Caleb's strong body was enveloping her, pushing her backward. The loudest sound she'd ever heard boomed in her ears. She closed her eyes against the brightness._ _

__The force of the blast knocked Chrisjen off her feet and blew her several yards away. Heat covered her body as the shockwave tore through her. She felt it in every pore of her being, a shuttering vibration that threatened to break her apart from within. When she hit the ground, she hit solidly, bouncing off the hard tile and rolling until she smashed into a nearby column. She lay still, unable to move._ _

__Sucking in a breath, dust invaded Chrisjen's lungs and she coughed violently. The ringing in her ears was disorienting. She was dizzy and couldn't get her bearings. As she tried to open her eyes, they only closed again involuntarily against the wooziness._ _

__Then came the pain. Chrisjen cried out as she tried to put weight on one shoulder in a misguided attempt to stand. The shoulder didn't work at all and leaning on it proved excruciating. The burning sensation in her ribs signaled unmistakable cracked bones. As her brain reconnected to her body, every single breath became painful and labored. She tasted blood, but it somehow seemed like the least of her worries._ _

__Struggling to move, Chrisjen forced her eyes open. The scene was horrific. Bodies were strewn all about the concourse, some moving and struggling like her, most completely still. The second floor was gone on one side, leaving a gaping hole in the facility that opened straight into lunar rock. Massive chunks of debris were everywhere and Chrisjen could see that some people had been crushed underneath them. Fire burned in a few isolated pockets._ _

__Peering through the white dust, Chrisjen searched for Caleb. Screams of the injured started sounding around the open space, though she could barely hear them through the unceasing ring in her head. Ignoring the chilling sounds, Chrisjen groaned loudly with the effort to crawl across the floor. Everything hurt. She could feel her skin being cut by shards of glass as she moved, but she couldn't see the pieces to move them away through the layer of dust that was forming on the floor._ _

__Finally, she made it the several meters to where Caleb lay unresponsive. "Ghazi," she breathed out, coughing with the effort of speaking. He didn't move. With the last of her strength, Chrisjen beat her two fists against his chest one time, willing him to answer when she repeated more strongly, "Ghazi!"_ _

__The dizziness and pain overtook her senses. Vision blurring, Chrisjen collapsed across Caleb's chest._ _


	2. A New Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobbie returns to Luna in record time. Our crew discovers Marco's plan and begins a counter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a looonnnggg chapter. It completely got away from me and I ended adding all these odds and ends that could've made it 7k words rather than 9k. Lol! Still, hope you enjoy!

Bobbie's breathing was shallow. She'd been pulling too many G's for far too many hours in her frenzied rush to get to Luna. She was barely able to move against the force, her body pinned to the pilot's seat. The effort of simply keeping her eyes open proved difficult and the color was slipping from her vision as the blood flow to her brain was strained. The hum of the _Razor's_ Espstein Turbo engine was the only thing she could hear, aside from her labored breaths. 

Seconds after they had gotten news of the bombing on Luna, Bobbie was in the racing ship, punching the accelerator. There were no specifics given in the report - only that the UN Secretary General's entourage had been the target of a possible terrorist attack. Bobbie's stomach turned and she had become nauseous as she watched the screen aboard the _Roci._ She'd never moved as fast as she did getting from the _Roci_ to the _Razor_ and she was sure her heart had never beat faster. Each time she had radioed the UN at Luna they refused to give any information over the comms link. Though she understood, it infuriated her nonetheless, pushing her to increase the ship's speed until she was at the brink of what her body could take. 

After almost twelve hours in high G, Earth's blue and white form came into view, her only naturally orbiting satellite could be seen soon after. She'd managed to cut a two day trip into half a day. Bobbie pointed the nose of the _Razorback_ toward Luna and punched it one more time. However, her senses were blacking out and she found herself almost unable to control the ship. Using all her strength to lift her hand against the force of gravity, Bobbie tapped the comms button. 

She said, breathless, "Luna Station, this is Bobbie Draper aboard the…" Her eyes blinked slowly before closing. 

"Draper!" Bobbie's lids shot open and she sucked in air as a voice came back across the radio. "You need to slow down for entry!" 

Doing her best to regain control of the ship, Bobbie reached for the joystick between her knees. Her vision was still blurry, but she caught sight of an open flight deck and hurtled toward it, pulling back, attempting to slow. Finally, the racer responded and she felt her speed reduce at least enough to use her hands. She tapped away at the holographic controls, slowing the engines, though not quite enough. 

She shouted into the comms, before her eyes widened. "Razorback, coming in hot!" On instinct, she lifted her arms to shield her face. 

The _Razorback_ landed diagonally on the dock at Luna Station with a loud metallic clang, bouncing, and sliding several meters across the flight deck. The scraping sound was loud, even inside the cockpit. Bobbie was jostled forcefully in her seat. It was far from a graceful landing. Her breathing was uneven and she barely had the energy left to shut down the engines. The G's were too much and her head was spinning. 

Closing her eyes and trying to breathe normally, Bobbie felt for the buckles of her harness. Releasing them, she attempted to move out of the pilot's seat, but the flow of blood to her limbs was still equalizing, leaving her arms and legs asleep. She dropped to the floor with a painful thud. As she came to her hands and knees, groaning, the airlock door opened. 

A UN officer hurried over to help her. The usually stoic Martian allowed the assistance as he pulled her up. They stumbled out of the ship and onto the flight deck where another officer was there with an oxygen tank. When Bobbie spotted it, she reached for the mask, fumbling. The first man helped her again, handing her the mask and holding it to her face. 

Bobbie sucked in the pure air. It only took a few breaths before she could feel the effects of oxygen entering her bloodstream. Moments later, her vision cleared and she pulled the mask away. 

"Where is…" Bobbie couldn't finish the question, each exhale making her head pound. She cursed the humanness of her body, desperate to get up and find what she was looking for. 

Putting the mask back over her mouth and nose, one of the officers told her, "It's alright, just keep breathing." 

Bobbie obeyed, but only for another minute. Life returned to her arms and legs and the fog lifted from her brain. A face flashed through her mind, with tan skin, deep brown eyes, and the most radiant smile. Chrisjen. 

Taking in a last gasp from the tank, Bobbie yanked the mask away. She shifted to stand a little too quickly and had to be steadied by the two men. She was finally able to meet their gaze, recognizing one of them. 

Grabbing him roughly by the lapels of his uniform, Bobbie asked, frantically, "Is she alive?" 

Hands around her wrists with his surprise, he responded with a confused, "What? They didn't tell you?" 

Tightening her grip, she said, "No one would tell me anything over the comms." She shook him and asked again, more boldly, "Is she alive?" 

"Yes!" He pulled himself from her hold. "Yes, she's alive. The last I heard she was at the hospital near Concourse Eight." Without waiting for another word, Bobbie rushed to exit the landing pad. 

Hastily moving through the hallways, Bobbie hoped she was going in the right direction. Half the station was on lockdown and UN guards were everywhere. There was no direct route and Bobbie was forced to go to an upper deck, then back down and around. 

Luna's complex corridor system was designed around the moon's natural lava tunnels. They meandered all through the round rock, much like the tunnels of an ant colony. Incredibly reinforced by centuries of hardened magma, it would have been foolish not to use them as an architectural structure. However, it made navigating around the place a struggle. 

The anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach grew with every step. She spotted a sign with an arrow pointing in the direction of the hospital. Picking up her pace, Bobbie rushed to it. Bursting through the doors, she found herself in the middle of a mad house. 

She stopped short at the sight of hundreds of people strewn about the emergency area. The sound of medical personnel shouting to be heard or trying to calm a patient filled her ears. Many were bleeding, using makeshift tourniquets and torn clothing to mend the wounds while they waited for medical attention. Some were sobbing while others seemed in shock. Nurses moved quickly all around and Bobbie almost bumped into one. Looking around until she found a nurse's station, she quickly went toward the desk. 

Before anyone asked her how they could help, she blurted, "I'm looking for the Secretary General. Is she still here?"

Someone glanced up to her and then looked away again. "I'm sorry, I can't give you that information." 

Frustration began to mount and Bobbie roughly sifted through her pockets. She pulled out her Level 4 UN security clearance and showed the woman. "I'm a member of her team. Please, tell me-" 

"Draper?" 

Bobbie quickly looked to see a member of Chrisjen's security team and wondered where Caleb was. The man rushed up to her and she moved to meet him halfway, needy for information. She noticed his tattered clothes and the dust on his hair and face. 

"What the hell happened?" She asked, breathless. 

He looked at her, clearly shaken. Eventually, he said, "I'm not sure. We were headed to the conference hall and there were guys in OPA uniforms and they fucking blew themselves up." 

"OPA uniforms?" It sounded strange to Bobbie, but she quickly pushed it from her mind. "What happened to Avasarala?" 

"They released her a few hours ago with a dermal regenerator and some pain meds," he told her. 

"She's alright?" 

"She was pretty banged up." Bobbie's heart sank at that. "They wanted her to stay overnight, but you know how she is. A team escorted her home." 

Indeed, Bobbie knew exactly how stubborn Chrisjen could be. Perking up at finally having an answer to her whereabouts, Bobbie confirmed, "She went back to her apartment?" 

He nodded slowly, overcome by his ordeal. Without a goodbye, Bobbie ran out the door. Rushing back the way she had come, she headed to the apartment. The route she picked was the only one she knew and it took her straight to Concourse 8. 

As she approached, the scent of fire and burned structure invaded her nostrils. She realized she was getting close to where the bombing had taken place. Soon, she encountered a contingent of UN guards. They held her up, explaining that no one was allowed beyond that point. She understood, but had to pick a new route and had no idea where the hell to go. 

Ducking into a hallway, she found an elevator. She got in and pushed the level the apartment was on. An automated voice came across the elevator speakers. _The level you selected is currently on lockdown_. Rolling her eyes, her frustration increased to the point that she was holding back tears. She mashed the button for the next level. _The level you selected is currently on lockdown_. 

"Fuck!" She shouted in anger. 

Curling her fingers into a fist, Bobbie punched the button plate, immediately regretting it as pain shot from her knuckles, to her wrist, and into her forearm. She hissed at the discomfort and looked to see that she'd broken the skin on a few knuckles. Just then, the elevator came to life and began moving to the level she had… selected… with her fist. She shook out her hand, ignoring the pain. 

The elevator dinged her arrival to a level that was four levels above where she needed to be. She began moving in the direction where the apartment would be if she were on the correct floor. Yanking her handheld device from her pocket, Bobbie taped a quick connect button that would ring Chrisjen. 

No answer and a resentful, "Shit," came from Bobbie. She rang again. Still no answer. Chrisjen must've turned it off. Resisting the urge to smash the offending device, Bobbie stuffed it back into her pocket. 

Turning a corner, she came to a stairwell. It was unguarded and gave Bobbie her first glimmer of hope. She quickly pulled the metal door open and scrambled down the flights of stairs. She came to the level where Chrisjen's apartment was located and exploded through the door, only to be stopped short with a gasp.

"Shit," she exclaimed, surprised, when she was met with the barrels of several drawn weapons. She lifted her hands until the members of Chrisjen's security team recognized her. 

"Draper?" One of them said. 

Desperation overtaking her, she asked a strained, "Is she here?" 

They lowered their weapons and Bobbie lowered her hands. "Come with me," he said. 

Bobbie followed him down the hall that was crawling with UN security. They came to the apartment door, but when he lifted a hand to knock at the door, Bobbie surged forward, throwing it open. 

"Chris?" She asked, frantically, slamming the door behind her. She didn't mean to use the nickname. She never did. It always came of its own accord, mostly when Bobbie was emotional. "Chrisjen!" She called again, moving through the space, searching. 

She abruptly stopped when the object of her constant focus came around the corner from the bedroom. Chrisjen stood there, staring. Relief flooding her, Bobbie's gaze was drawn to the slight cuts that sprinkled her neck and jawline. There was a gash above her eyebrow held together with a dermal glue. She had one arm wrapped around her torso as if protecting it. Wearing one of Bobbie's old t-shirts, she looked completely vulnerable and it broke the former marine. 

The expression on Chrisjen's face was so full of emotion and when she whispered with her usual wit, "Took you long enough," the young woman couldn't hold herself back. 

She rushed to her lover and they fell into one another's embrace. Bobbie let out the sob she'd been holding in for hours. Burying her nose in Chrisjen's dark tresses, she breathed her in - the scent of her shampoo, her skin, the familiar feel of Chrisjen's body under her hands. She was really here, alive, and in her arms. 

She accidentally squeezed too hard, and Chrisjen let out a pained noise. Trying to pull away from her, Bobbie quickly apologized. "I'm so sorry," but Chrisjen only brought them back together.

"It's okay," she said quietly.

Keeping her grip light, Bobbie wrapped Chrisjen up in her tall frame. She rested her cheek against Chrisjen's silken hair, slightly damp from a recent shower and it smelled like heaven. Rubbing circles on her back, the two women began to sway ever so slightly, settling into one another. Each breath drew them closer until even the air couldn't get between them. 

"I was so scared," Bobbie said, barely above a whisper. 

Chrisjen shifted to look up at her and, damn, if she wasn't the most gorgeous human in the Sol, with no makeup and the natural wave in her undone hair. Bobbie hoped her eyes were communicating all the words that were so difficult to say. Her countenance must've been saying something right because Chrisjen's only response was to gently press her lips to Bobbie's. 

Finally all the fear and anxiety fell from the young woman's shoulders. All the adrenaline that had been coursing through her, driving her to find her lover began to subside, replaced by the warm feeling of coming home. Lifting a tender hand to Chrisjen's cheek, she leaned in to kiss her again. As their lips made easy contact again and again, Bobbie began to feel a flush spreading through her. She cursed her preoccupation with Chrisjen's body, reminding herself of the ordeal the woman had just been through and the fact that she needed to rest. They both did. 

But when Chrisjen leaned back ever so slightly, meeting her gaze, Bobbie saw a familiar fire in those dark orbs. Deft fingers languidly reached to the messy bun Bobbie often sported, pulling out the tie that held it together. Long hair tumbled around Bobbie's shoulders and Chrisjen combed her hands into it. Bobbie shut her eyes at the feeling, fully realizing how much she had missed this woman. When she opened hooded eyes, she was met with a forceful kiss that had her closing them again. 

Chrisjen pressed into her, tongue slipping between her lips and Bobbie forgot the notion of rest. They kissed deeply, refusing to hold back after so much time apart. Their mouths began the rhythm of an intimate push and pull as they moved against each other. 

Bobbie reached to pull the t-shirt over Chrisjen's shoulders, not missing how she favored her left arm. When the shirt was gone, Bobbie's hands went to her curves, pulling the small body closer. Again, she put too much pressure on Chrisjen's ribcage, instantly apologetic when the other woman tore her lips away with hissed wince. 

Both of them breathless, Chrisjen dropped her head against Bobbie's chest, lifting a protective hand to her ribs. 

"Cracked," she breathed out. 

The urgency in Bobbie's belly began to calm at the one word explanation. She ran her hands slowly up and down Chrisjen's arms, hoping to comfort her. When they finally separated, Bobbie glanced down to survey the injury. 

"Shit," she muttered. Leaning toward her, she observed deep bruising across the entire left side of Chrisjen's torso. She barely touched her fingertips to it for fear of hurting her again. 

"It's alright," Chrisjen tried to sound reassuring, but Bobbie noted the shakiness in her tone. "Better than it was a few hours ago." 

"And the shoulder?" Bobbie asked, inspecting it. 

"Dislocated." Bobbie exhaled at the answer. "Also much better." Next, Bobbie's light touch went to the gash at Chrisjen's temple and her eyes slipped closed for a second. "They put me in a regen pod," Chrisjen told her. "I'll be fine by tomorrow." 

Meeting her gaze, Bobbie inquired, "What else?" 

Hesitantly, Chrisjen held her hands out slightly, palms up. Bobbie's eyes widened at the number of scars and scratches on her hands and forearms. The medical team had clearly spent a lot of time on them with a dermal regenerator, which was painful in itself. They already looked mostly healed. 

"There was glass everywhere." 

Looking at her, Bobbie held back tears at the sight of Chrisjen clearly holding back tears. She pulled her in once again, being sure not to hold her too tight, and simply said a soft, "Chrisjen." 

"Caleb took the brunt of it," Chrisjen said against her chest. "Idiot." 

"Is he alright?" Bobbie began running easy circles over Chrisjen's bare back, savoring the feel of her skin. 

"He will be." She pulled back from Bobbie's embrace. The air shifted again as she watched Bobbie. Taking backward steps into the bedroom, she tugged on Bobbie's hands. "Come lie down." 

Bobbie knew exactly what she meant, and as much as she wanted it, she wanted the other woman to heal. "Chrisjen, we don't have to. You need to rest." 

Even as she said it, she was putting her hands on Chrisjen's face and kissing her again. It felt so good to touch her. Bobbie couldn't help it, and Chrisjen knew the power she had over her. Before she could follow what was happening, the thin rash guard she usually wore under her flight suit was being pulled off and her leggings were pooled at her ankles. She stepped out of them, not missing a beat and Chrisjen continued to entice her toward the bed. 

There were a lot of things about Chrisjen Avasarala that Bobbie hadn't expected. Things like how compromising she could be, how often she said 'please,' and what a fantastic cook she was. But the thing she had least expected was what a generous lover Chrisjen was. She didn't crave sex like Bobbie did, but she gave it as a gift often, leaving Bobbie far more satisfied than she could ever hope to be. Even now, when she was in pain and in need of comfort herself, all she wanted was to comfort Bobbie. 

The young woman found herself being easily moved to the bed. She couldn't take her eyes off Chrisjen as she was gently pushed down to the mattress, and when Chrisjen paused only to slip her slacks off, Bobbie felt an acute arousal begin sweeping through her. Next, Chrisjen was straddling her, hands fanned over her stomach, knees pressing into the comforter on either side of her hips. 

Bobbie's breaths turned shallow as fingernails scratched lightly up and down her ribcage. When hands reached around her, she lifted her back off the mattress, allowing Chrisjen to unhook her bra. She slipped it off and tossed it aside. Bobbie's eyelids slammed shut when Chrisjen's hands covered her breasts and began gently massaging. 

She let out a shuttered breath. "I need this," she said quietly. As Chrisjen continued her movements, Bobbie fully confessed, "I need you." 

Bending down to place a kiss at her jaw then her bottom lip, Chrisjen told her, "Just let me love you." 

Bobbie tried to nod, but found her brain already disconnecting from her body as Chrisjen flicked her thumbs over both her nipples at the same time. The instant tingles ran the length of her body. Her eyes were closed so she didn't see it coming when Chrisjen's wet mouth went to one nipple. Bobbie gasped as perfect lips began to gently suck. She started to move underneath Chrisjen, grabbing fistfuls of the blanket. It only took a minute under that magnificent mouth to render Bobbie useless. 

Releasing the sensitive nipple, Chrisjen shifted to kiss her hard on the lips, eliciting a moan from Bobbie's throat before she moved to the next breast. Letting out a short cry of pleasure, Bobbie wondered, as she often had before, how long she would be able to handle the treatment. She knew it wouldn't be very long when Chrisjen reached inside her panties to press her fingers against Bobbie's core to which the young woman pressed the back of her head into the pillow. She let out labored breaths, bucking against Chrisjen's hand. 

Bobbie sucked in a breath when Chrisjen went to remove her underwear. The goddess on top of her pressed their lips together while pressing a hand against her center. Sitting up, Chrisjen shifted to put a knee between Bobbie's legs, pushing her knees apart and opening her up to Chrisjen's expert touch. Dipping a teasing finger into Bobbie's folds, she wet the tips and began to barrage Bobbie's clit. 

Disconnected moans and broken breaths came from the younger woman as she let herself lose control, giving in to the sensations. Her hips involuntarily moved to the motion of her lover's hands. Needing release, Bobbie thought she might explode with want. Her skin was in fire, sweat forming over her. 

Sensing her state, Chrisjen gave her what she wanted, dragging her fingers across Bobbie's clit until the glorious friction overwhelmed her. Bobbie shook with the force of her perfect orgasm. Light flashed behind her eyelids and heat spread through her. She let out labored breaths as the throbbing deep inside her finally calmed and she was sated for the first time in long weeks. 

Bobbie traded a fistful of blanket for a gentle fistful of Chrisjen's soft hair. She pulled her down and into a passionate kiss. Her body began to cool, the air catching the thin layer of sweat over her skin. 

Chrisjen moved off her, settling on her side only a few inches from Bobbie. Her breathing evening out for the first time all day, Bobbie took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled slowly. She stayed on her back, unable to quite use her limbs. Turning her head toward Chrisjen, she found the kindest eyes she'd ever seen. She would never understand why this woman had chosen to give her so much love. 

Bobbie reached over to tenderly stroke the back of her finger along the line of Chrisjen's face. As her consciousness returned, she noticed the other woman's position. 

Forcing herself from her spot, Bobbie said, "Don't lie on that shoulder." She climbed over her as Chrisjen rolled to follow, taking the weight from her injured side. Bobbie pulled the blankets back and caringly laid them over Chrisjen, settling in near her. "Better?" 

Chrisjen only hummed in reply. She slipped her hand up to take Bobbie's, pressing a small kiss to her knuckles. They stayed like that for long minutes, eyes stuck on each other. When the _Roci_ had gotten the news of the bombing, Bobbie was terrified she wouldn't see Chrisjen again. Now she was terrified that if she closed her eyes, the woman might disappear before she opened them again. She stroked Chrisjen's hand with her thumb, needing the tether of touch to be sure this was real. 

Remembering the promise she'd made to herself to never leave her, Bobbie quietly requested, "Don't send me away again." 

Expression softening to something almost sad, Chrisjen absorbed the request. After a moment, she said slowly, unsure, "Holden says you're the best soldier on the crew."

Bobbie knew that tone. It was the one Chrisjen used when she was trying to convince herself. "They don't need me," she replied. "They've always gotten along fine before." She released Chrisjen's hand and rested her palm at the older woman's face, thumb grazing her cheekbone. "I'm not leaving you again." 

Her heart soared when Chrisjen came to lay on top of her, chest to chest, stomach to stomach, and the skin on skin contact was rejuvenating and warm. Bobbie wrapped her up with her arms and legs, holding her tight as she dared. 

"I suppose there's no point in arguing with you," Chrisjen stated after she'd settled into Bobbie.

"There's not," Bobbie answered solidly. 

Chrisjen asked, "How long until the Rocinante gets here." 

Bobbie took a breath, thinking. "Another day." 

Lifting her head from Bobbie's chest, Chrisjen looked at her, surprised. "How fast did you get here?" 

"Under twelve hours." There was a small smirk on Bobbie's face when she said it. It was a quick time. 

"The Razor is that fast?" 

Bobbie nodded, gently pulling Chrisjen back into her. "It was too many G's, though," she confessed. "I almost lost it. Passed out a couple times." 

"For twelve hours?" Chrisjen picked her head back up. "Bobbie…" 

"I'm fine," she assured her. "Nothing a little oxygen couldn't fix." 

"Don't ever do something that reckless again," Chrisjen spoke firmly. 

Bobbie glanced at her, then pulled her back down again. The comment was slightly ironic considering all the reckless things they both constantly did. She ran her fingers through the onyx hair. "I had to get to you." 

Exhaling a breath across her chest, Chrisjen nuzzled against her. Accepting the answer, she simply requested, "Hold me for the next day." 

Smiling slightly to herself, Bobbie replied, "That's all I've wanted to do for weeks." 

********************

The effects of the medical regeneration pod began to take effect during the night. After only a few hours of sleep, Chrisjen was awake. Wide awake. She attempted to will herself back to sleep, wanting nothing more than to stay in Bobbie's unconscious embrace. When it was obvious that sleep wouldn't come, she carefully moved out of her lover's arms and out of bed. 

Coming into the large bathroom, Chrisjen closed the door before switching the light on. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her first thought was that an hour in one of the medical pods might be a must every week. She could swear she looked years younger. The purpose of the pods was to rapidly boost cell repair, create an abundance of red blood cells, and jump start the immune system. A happy side effect was how all those things made the skin glow and slightly decreased the depth of wrinkles. 

After inspecting the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes and the slight lines around her lips, Chrisjen went to the real reason she had been in the pod. Her gaze shifted down to her side. Though the bruising was still very evident, the pain had largely subsided when she put pressure on the wounded ribs. Next, she rolled her left shoulder and breathed a sigh of relief when the joint seemed stiff, but didn't hurt. The deep cut above her eye was almost gone. All of the other cuts and bruises also seemed to have mostly healed. 

Suddenly, she thought of what Caleb's injuries must be like. Certainly, a simple session in a regeneration pod wouldn't fix what had happened to him. His back had been blown open by the blast as he had turned himself toward the bomber in order to shield Chrisjen. With his spine exposed and a traumatic injury to his head, it was a marvel he was alive at all... Closing her eyes, Chrisjen pushed away the memory before it overwhelmed her. 

After coming out of the bathroom she walked into the bedroom closet that was much too small in her opinion. She found a salwar kameez that suited her and took the bottoms off the rack, slipping them on. Moving to the other side of the closet, she found another of Bobbie's old t-shirts. She would complete her ensemble later. She had begun to enjoy the scent of Bobbie's shirts in the morning before she put on her much more traditional and formal clothing. 

Soon, Chrisjen was in the living room. Her mind had a single focus as she tapped the console on the coffee table. She pulled up the encrypted data pack that Bobbie had sent her yesterday morning. Her brow furrowed as she scrolled through the files. They appeared to be random text files, though the text was simply jumbled words, and made no sense. A cipher of some sort, Chrisjen thought. Or maybe they weren't text files at all. 

Examining them for a long time yielded no more understanding. She knew exactly which of her intelligence officers to contact. Tapping the console, she made the call. 

********************

Several hours later, Chrisjen listened intently to her contact's explanation of the now decrypted data. It hadn't taken him long to crack it, explaining that it was a Belter tech that had been used to encrypt it, something the UN had recently learned to navigate around. He beamed the deciphered messages back to Chrisjen, walking her through dozens of virtual pages of notes and holographic images. She had to ask him several times if he was sure, to which he grimly nodded. 

Marco's plan was insane. The worst part of it was the idea that it could actually work. It brought several pieces of the puzzle together - all the missing and renamed ships, the Martian tech stolen from Bobbie's shipyard, and the strange way the factions of the Belt had been interacting with one another. 

"You must not tell a soul," Chrisjen told the intelligence officer. 

"Understood, ma'am," he replied. "You tell me if you want me to make a move. I take orders from you." 

With a nod, Chrisjen ended the call. She appreciated his loyalty and also hoped she wouldn't have to call on it. Dropping her head, Chrisjen felt a despair come over her. Of all the things that Earth had faced, this might be the worst. Even worse than the potential fallout Eros had posed. Standing, she took a deep breath. She would need all her strength for what was to come. 

Tugging at the wrap of her traditional suit, Chrisjen walked to the digital console on the wall. It constantly broadcasted an image from the lunar surface. At this moment, the moon was in perfect visual alignment with Earth. Chrisjen watched as the sun began to peek over the curve of Earth's horizon. It was beautiful. As much as she hated space, seeing her planet like this was a breathtaking privilege she would never enjoy if not for space travel. To call it a sunrise was a vast understatement. The light hit the weather systems over the air and turned the clouds a golden hue and made the oceans look so blue. Earth was truly the most beautiful place in the system. She let the minutes slip by, observing the sight on the display and letting it speak to her ever present sense of purpose. 

Her home was under threat. Billions of lives, a continent possibly, not to mention their atmosphere, all at risk. Her fear began to turn to resolve as she watched the Sol illuminate Earth's surface, warming her inhabitants and nurturing her offerings. 

No, Marco would not win this war. His plan would fail miserably and his hold over the Belt would be broken. There was no other choice. Chrisjen would see to it. 

She was suddenly pulled from her internal pep talk by Bobbie's voice from beside her. "What's going on?" The young woman asked. Chrisjen turned to her. "I know that look." 

Chrisjen watched her for a moment, weighing the decision to pull the woman she loved into another dangerous situation. Taking Bobbie's hand, she pulled her over to the sofa and opened the files to show her the decrypted data. 

*********************

It was always heartening to see the crew of the _Rocinante_. Technically, they were paid employees, an official envoy of the UN Secretary General. Less technically, they were trustworthy, which was more valuable than lithium. More accurately, they were considered friends. Though, it seemed as though the only times Chrisjen was able to cross paths with them was when one place or another in the system was in grave danger. Today, it would be the same. The least Chrisjen could do was soften the blow with a few comforts. 

While Bobbie studied the data pack for as many details as she could glean, Chrisjen was in the kitchen preparing for the crew's arrival. She began to load serving trays and take them to the apartment's living area. 

Bobbie did a double take as she came in. "How do you do that?" 

"Do what?" Chrisjen asked, concentrating on the presentation of the trays. She moved various items around to make it more symmetrical. 

"You've barely been in there for a half hour and you've come out with a feast." 

Chrisjen waved a hand at her dismissively. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm about to send them back out into the lion's den. The least I can do is make Holden some fucking coffee." 

Bobbie glanced over the offerings, eyebrows raising. "Is that lasagna?" 

She gave a slight shrug. "Don't tell them it's leftovers." Bobbie reached over to grab a fork to which Chrisjen shooed her hand away. "It's for Alex!" 

"You can't be serious!" Bobbie exclaimed, with a light hearted chuckle. "You remember I've been out there with them this whole time, right?" 

With a sly look, Chrisjen replied, "You got your reward last night." Bobbie couldn't argue with that one. Just then, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," Chrisjen called out. 

Slowly opening the door, James Holden peeked around. Catching her eye, she gave him a warm smile and waved him in. One by one the crew filed into the apartment. Naomi, Amos, and Alex all followed James. Chrisjen greeted each one of them. They all exchanged smiles and handshakes. She was surprised at how happy she was to see them. It seemed their bond was deepening with each new mission they worked together. 

Acutely aware of Amos's little crush on her, Chrisjen leaned up to place a light kiss on his cheek to everyone's amusement. Even Naomi seemed to be warming up to her a bit, though their relationship remained tenuous. Bobbie was clearly encouraged to see them all, going a step further and giving out loose hugs. Chrisjen knew the young woman had a need to be part of a unit, a notion ingrained in her personality after so much Marine Corp training. Chrisjen was glad the _Roci_ crew could fill that need for her in a way that she couldn't. 

They all sat down, eyes on the food that had been prepared. Chrisjen had tried to whip up some favorites as best she could. Seeing their distracted gazes, she quickly said, "I know you all must be starving for something more substantial than -." 

She was cut off as everyone began diving into the fare of the serving trays. There was coffee for James and Amos, Martian tea for Alex and Bobbie, and a spiced drink that Chrisjen understood was popular in the Belt for Naomi. She didn't have much in the kitchen, but she remembered Amos talking about pasta and Alex wishing for real cheese in lasagna. 

Sitting down with them, she simply poured herself some coffee, content in the opportunity to offer some comfort to the crew that worked so tirelessly for her. She watched Naomi look at the food, unsure. Sliding a bowl of fruit toward her, Chrisjen gave her an encouraging glance. The young Belter picked up a grape and slowly put it in her mouth. Her eyes widened slightly as she chewed and Chrisjen tried to imagine tasting something as simple as a grape for the first time. Naomi promptly took another. 

As they settled in, Chrisjen told them, "I want to thank you all for your hard work. You didn't get much of a break after Ilus." 

Shrugging it off as usual, James asked, "What about you? Tell us about the bombing." 

"Are you alright?" Amos asked, genuinely concerned. 

"I'm fine," Chrisjen answered. 

"She got more banged up than she'll admit," Bobbie interjected. With a pointed look, she added, "You could've died." 

"But I didn't." Her tone quieted when she said, "However, plenty of people did." She recounted the almost hundred people who perished in the concourse and the countless others injured. The bomb's force had extended even to other levels of Luna Station. 

"Do we know who it was?" James inquired. 

"OPA," Bobbie answered. 

"I don't think so," Chrisjen said, to Bobbie's clear surprise. 

"What?" 

"We've worked so hard to secure a truce with the Belt," Chrisjen told them. "I just can't believe the OPA would throw that away." She thought back to that morning. "They were wearing OPA uniforms, as if they were trying to be obvious. It was too obvious." 

Naomi spoke up. "The factions are so divided right now. It seems possible that one of them could go rogue like this." 

"Maybe," she agreed, "but why me? I'm not the Secretary General anymore. Why come after me?" 

"There's a ton of reasons, Chrissy," Amos said. 

"Stop calling her that," Bobbie told him, only half joking. Chrisjen knew the crush annoyed her and she couldn't help enjoying her Martian's slight jealousy. 

Alex chuckled and Amos rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying," Amos continued, "A lot of Belters aren't happy with the truce. It's easy to blame a lot of their troubles on you." 

Chrisjen nodded slowly, still her gut told her something was off about the bombing. "What if it was Marco's loyalists?" She proposed. "What if he's framing the OPA?" 

"To what end?" Naomi asked. 

"Distraction," Chrisjen answered cryptically. 

After a moment of silence, James said, "You know something." When she only looked at him, he asked, "Were you able to open the data package?" 

Nodding again, she said seriously, "It's not good."

A palpable tension came over the group. The crew wanted to ask, but at the same time seemed like they'd rather not know a damn thing. She had already asked so much of them from IO to Ilus to chasing down leads, and now she was about to ask for more. 

"Tell us," James said. 

With a deep breath, Chrisjen stood and retrieved her hand held. Tapping it, she swiped to create a holographic view everyone could see. She slowly scrolled through various images, knowing the crew would put the pieces together. 

"Two asteroids," Chrisjen explained. "Each one about the size of Pallas." 

"How could he possibly steer those things?" Alex asked. 

"Ships," Chrisjen said. "Lots of them." She flipped to an outline depicting massive boulders the size of land masses being pushed in a trajectory by ship's thrusters. "Enough ships, attached to an asteroid, working in tandem could move it from the Belt and set it on a course for Earth." 

"So we blow 'em up," Amos stated. 

Bobbie stood and walked over to Chrisjen. "Not if we can't see them." She flipped to another document showing that Marco had secured a Martian stealth printer. "Marco's been dealing with Mars for technology since the Ring Gates opened and everyone got greedy." 

"He could care less about the Ring," Chrisjen said. "Earth is his target. His hatred for Earth has reached a point where he is willing to destroy the entire planet." 

"Asteroids of this size collide with Earth…" Bobbie speculated, "The planet will break apart from the inside out." 

The words cut deep into Chrisjen's heart and she exhaled deeply. "We have to stop this." 

James opened his mouth as if to speak and then closed it. The crew sat in stunned silence. Seconds ticked away and Chrisjen feared it may be too much and too big and too unable to accomplish. Maybe this would be the straw that finally broke the crew's back and they would tell her 'no' for the first time. She wouldn't blame them. 

Standing slowly to his feet, James asked, "What's our first move?" 

Chrisjen's relief was obvious from the small, victorious smile. She breathed out and looked over to them. They seemed sure, almost with a glint in their eyes. The people in this room were certainly the finest people Chrisjen knew - or the craziest. 

"We think he's still early in this plan," she said. "Your job is to keep looking for him and his crew, and if you find one of his abandoned ships along the way, assume it's on hold for this big plan and blow it to hell. None of this works without his armada." 

"And you," Bobbie asked. 

"I will do my best to convince the Belters that Marco is not for them, but using them." 

"How do you propose to do that?" Naomi asked. 

"I don't believe he's in league with only one faction, but many factions," she explained. "Turn one and the others will fall." Thinking for a moment, she said, "We need someone in the OPA we can trust, someone who can lead us in the right direction." 

Naomi quickly stated, "I know someone." 

"Good," Chrisjen said. They had a lot to think over. Bringing this preliminary talk to a close she told them, "You all need to rest. I'm sure the Rocinante and the Razorback both need repairs too. Take care of yourselves first and then take care of our ships. We'll talk more later." 

They all stood to leave when Bobbie went up to Alex. "I need to show you more of the Razor's systems if you're going to pilot her." 

Suddenly everyone was still, staring at her. They knew immediately the implementation of the statement. 

"Pilot her," Alex repeated. 

"Naomi will make a perfect copilot," she skipped over the question. 

"You're not coming?" Alex asked. 

"Sitting this one out," she confirmed. "I'm staying here." 

Chrisjen's lips parted with shock. She knew Bobbie said she wouldn't leave again, but that was after sex and Bobbie said all kinds of things after sex. She never expected that the former marine would give up command of her ship. Not to mention, being the midst of a fight was Bobbie's element. She always said she felt most useful when she was on a mission. 

"Bobbie…" Chrisjen spoke quietly. 

"I told you," Bobbie snapped back under her breath. "I'm not leaving again. Not after…" 

She trailed off averting her gaze, but everyone knew exactly what she met. Not after the bombing. Not after such a close call. They weren't open about their relationship. In fact, they'd never actually told a soul. They barely interacted in public, always striving to stay professional lest anyone think either of them was distracted by the other and falling down on the job. But everyone knew, and they knew everyone knew. Hell, they'd been living together since Bobbie came to Earth and, try as they may, they couldn't help the way they looked at each other. 

The women stared at one another, a battle of wills taking place between them. "They need you," Chrisjen finally said. 

Moving closer to her, Bobbie stated, barely above a whisper, attempting to keep it between them, "And I need you, alive." She turned back to Alex. "Once the repairs are done to the Razor's hull, we'll go over the systems." 

A spark went off in Chrisjen's mind at the statement, distracting her. "What the fuck happened to the Razor's hull?" 

With a satisfied grin, Amos said, "Told you she'd be mad." 

"Just a few scratches," Bobbie said, annoyed. 

Everyone began to file out, sensing the tension between the couple. Once they left, Chrisjen looked at Bobbie with a hard expression. "What is this?" 

"Like I said," Bobbie deflected, calmly, "just a few scratches. Nothing a bit of stealth paint can't-," 

Raising her voice, Chrisjen shot back, "You know I'm not talking about the fucking ship! That crew needs you and one incident has you twisted in fucking knots." 

Eye widening, Bobbie spoke just as forcefully. "Oh, I'm so sorry that staying here to keep you safe doesn't meet your approval," she said, sarcastically. 

"I have an entire goddamn team of people for that." 

"A lot of good they are!" She glanced to the door, pointing her finger to where most of that team stood on the other side. Emotion began rising in Bobbie's voice. "I come back here to find you with broken bones, cuts and bruises everywhere. No!" She took a step closer to Chrisjen, her gaze piercing. "I promised myself a long time ago that I would keep you safe no matter what it cost. I understand that me not fitting into your mold of a good little girlfriend who obeys your every bidding must be difficult for you to handle, but I stay with you." Chrisjen looked at her, bewildered and caught off guard at the term 'girlfriend.' "End of discussion." 

With that Bobbie stalked back to the bedroom, slamming the door. Chrisjen watched her go, lips slowly parting. She couldn't remember the last time someone had slammed a door on her. She closed her eyes and sighed. Bobbie was right. She did constantly send her away. 

After IO, she was the one who insisted that Bobbie return to the MMC. After the Ring Gate, when Bobbie had asked to stay on Earth and serve on her security team again, Chrisjen was the one who told her she would be happier on Mars. When the election was lost, she wanted nothing more than to keep Bobbie with her, the woman was such a comfort. However, Chrisjen had asked her to go with the _Rocinante_ crew, knowing she would be helpful. 

It wasn't because she wanted Bobbie to go. On the contrary, she wanted her stay more than she'd wanted anything in a long, long time. But that seemed selfish. Her entire adult life, Chrisjen sacrificed what she wanted for her own life in order to serve the greater good. Too many times now that meant asking her dearest companion to leave her. 

Dropping into a chair, Chrisjen revolved that there had to be a solution between happiness and the greater fucking good. 

******************

Luna was beginning to return to normal. Citizens had ventured back out and most of the extra guards had returned to their regular duties. The level where the bombing had happened was still locked down and the transition talks between Chrisjen's team and Nancy's team had been postponed, leaving Chrisjen effectively in as Secretary General for the time being. 

Bobbie focused on even breaths as she jogged the concourse below the level of the bombing. After the crew left, she had changed into some running clothes and wordlessly left the apartment. She went four levels down and began running each concourse on her way back up. It was a long route, tough with all the upstairs segments, and exactly what she needed to clear her head. 

She'd never had feelings that went as deep as what she felt for Chrisjen Avasarala, but she was also the most infuriating person Bobbie had ever known. Bobbie was accustomed to following orders. She had learned to be so in the Corp. Chrisjen was accustomed to giving orders, which Bobbie had agreed with until now. Now things were different. No one was invested in Chrisjen's safety like Bobbie. She would have thought the woman would appreciate her wanting to stay behind to look after her, but her pride was too much. Maybe it would be best to just go with the crew, obey the order, and be a good little Martian.

But maybe it wasn't pride, Bobbie thought. Chrisjen's sense of duty was second to no one, not even Bobbie herself. She would sacrifice anything to do what was right for Earth and her people. And when they were alone in each other's arms, the look in Chrisjen's eyes always told Bobbie she wanted them together. Chrisjen was the first person who had told her she loved her, words she had always craved, but she convinced herself they were unnecessary. She'd also never heard Chrisjen say the words to anyone else, not even Arjun. Bobbie allowed herself to entertain the possibility that she meant as much to Chrisjen as Chrisjen meant to her. 

Slowing to a walk and catching her breath, Bobbie began to understand that giving away her happiness had become second nature to Chrisjen. She had been doing it for so long, she didn't even question it anymore. It was unacceptable. No one deserved to be happy more than Chrisjen. 

Bobbie became hardened in her original decision. The crew would have to get on without her. She was staying on Luna. As she made her way back to the apartment, Bobbie tried to form the most convincing argument she could to present to the other woman. Chrisjen would simply have to come around to her way of thinking. How hard could that be? 

Soon, she was rounding the corner to the front door, gaze darting around when only a couple of guards were left in the hallway. 

"What's going on?" Bobbie asked them. 

"She left," one of them replied. 

"Left," Bobbie repeated, annoyed at the lack of clarity. "Well, where did she go?" 

"Flight deck." 

Bobbie looked at the man quizzically. What business would Chrisjen have on the flight deck? Surveying the ships perhaps. Maybe assessing the damage to the _Razor._ Bobbie's lips quirked at the thought as she came through the front door. She hadn't expected the woman's affinity for the small boat and she found it endearing. 

A quick shower and change of clothes and Bobbie was back out the door. She worked her way through the maze of hallways, corridors, and long elevator rides back to the flight deck. After almost a half hour trek, she was back where she'd started the day before. The _Rocinante_ and the _Razorback_ were docked side by side. Bobbie took note of just how little the pinnace looked next to the _Roci_. She also noticed that the scraps on the _Razor's_ hull had already been repaired and repainted. Chrisjen must've insisted on it. 

Rarely having the opportunity to appreciate her ship outside of space, Bobbie walked up to the _Razorback_. She placed her palm over one of the three long panels that encased the ship, giving the pilot optimum control of the reaction clusters. It's one of the things that made this boat one of the fastest in the galaxy. And it was hers, the only thing she had to her name, really. The greatest gift she'd ever received, save the one who gave it to her. 

Tearing her focus from the _Razorback_ , she looked to the _Roci._ Chrisjen wasn't anywhere in sight so she must be aboard, possibly saying goodbye to the crew. Climbing the gantry steps, Bobbie walked through the airlock doors that led into the cargo bay. Proceeding up a ladder, she took deep breaths. She wanted to be as calm as possible when she confronted Chrisjen. She had to remain rational if she had any hope of convincing Chrisjen to let her stay behind. 

Moving through a couple short hallways, Bobbie heard voices coming from the command deck. Walking through the open doorway, she saw two crew members standing at the large console in the center of the deck with their backs to her. One was Naomi and she was with… wait… 

Bobbie's brow knit together. She'd know that impeccable twist of hair anywhere. Then that perfect voice floated to her ears as she asked Naomi about the _Roci's_ navigation system. She found her words stuck in her throat and her feet stuck to the deck. 

There was Chrisjen Avasarala, standing on the command deck of the ship, wearing one of their black _Rocinante_ flight suits and asking about nav system ops and following along quite intently to Naomi's instruction. Bobbie's first thought was that she'd forgotten how damn sexy Chrisjen looked in a flight suit. Her second, more pressing thought, was why she was wearing it at all. 

Finally finding her voice, Bobbie asked quietly, "What's going on?" 

Both women turned to her. Chrisjen gave a small smile while Naomi said, "I'll leave you two alone." She made her way passed Bobbie and down to engineering. 

Even though they were alone, neither of them spoke. They simply looked at each, waiting for the other to talk. It was Chrisjen who broke the silence. 

Holding her hands out with a little flare, she asked, "Do you like it?" Indicating the suit. 

Swallowing, the internal rhetoric she'd planned out began to crumble as every word she'd rehearsed on the way here was forgotten. "I do," she replied honestly. "Why are you wearing it?" She tried to appear stern in her question. 

Chrisjen took a few slow steps to stand close to her. The usual care that she looked at Bobbie with was in her eyes. "I love that you are willing to stay with me here on Luna when I know that a big part of you feels a duty to this crew and to our mission." 

Bobbie glanced away, any direction but at Chrisjen. How did this woman seem to know her every thought? It made her feel so vulnerable. No one else could do that. "You're the most important thing in the Sol to me," Bobbie told her. 

Another step closer and Chrisjen reached out to lightly take her hand. She stroked her thumb across the back of it and Bobbie felt a warm run the length of her arm. 

"I've told you that I love you," Chrisjen said. Bobbie looked at the floor. Those words made her uncomfortable. Not because she didn't love hearing them, but because she hated that she couldn't seem to say it back. Chrisjen lifted her hand to Bobbie's cheek, guiding her gaze back. "And you've told me the same thing a hundred times in a hundred different ways." Hot tears stung Bobbie's eyes, and another hand came to cup her face. "I never meant for you to think I was sending you away," Chrisjen said slowly, wanting the words to sink in. "I want you with me. I always have." 

"I want to be with you." It was all Bobbie could think to say. Her hands found their way to their favorite spot at Chrisjen's waist. 

Eyes flicking down to Bobbie's lips, Chrisjen said, "Then I propose a compromise." 

Following her meaning and the reason for the flight suit, Bobbie gave the slightest grin. "I'm listening." 

"Well," Chrisjen's tone became lighter as she quipped, "since you're so desperate to be with me…" Bobbie hummed in reply, pulling her closer. Their noses brushed and Chrisjen smiled against her lips. "I thought I could tag along with you." She pressed a kiss to Bobbie's bottom lip. "The best of both worlds. We stay together and the crew gets their soldier." 

Bringing their lips together slowly, lingering there for one... two... three seconds, Bobbie pulled back to jokingly ask, "What could possibly go wrong?"

Chrisjen chuckled and brought them back together. Bobbie kissed her until they were taking deep breaths. This was a dream. Ever since IO, Bobbie had laid awake at night imagining going back into space with Chrisjen. It was where they grew close, fell in love, if Bobbie were honest with herself. Aboard this ship is when it all started for them. This felt right. Another adventure was waiting for them. 


	3. Enter Drummer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter moves along pretty quickly. Hope the story is still believable here. Remember it's fiction 😅
> 
> Also, I stopped italicising ship names. The last two chapters I've messed the tags up and it was terrible to fix. Sorry.

The Rocinante had been out in open space for two weeks. She was holding up well, thanks to a bevy of repairs and upgrades made to her while docked at Luna. New drive shifters made for a more responsive punch on the accelerator, upgraded scrubbers kept the oxygen cleaner and made it last longer, also newly manufactured coolant coils greatly increased the ship's capacity to hold high speeds for longer stretches. The rear paneling of the cargo bay was finally replaced - the one that had been split apart by the protomolecule hybrid. It was a relief to everyone that they would no longer have to keep patching it to ensure against vacuum leaks. There was even a brand new, top of the line, coffee maker in the mess hall. Not to mention, the ship's trademark, sexy emblem had been redone. 

A new marquee had been bolted to the hull, replacing the one that read Official envoy to the UN Secretary General. Now, it simply said Owner: Chrisjen Avasarala, Captain: James Holden, along with the mission statement - We go where needed. When Alex had suggested it, they all thought it seemed fitting. Chrisjen had the plaque made up the next day. She had paid for all the upgrades and new gadgets. No one questioned it, except Amos. 

The day she informed him he would be receiving a new set of hydraulic tools for the engineering deck, he had asked bluntly, "How much money do you have anyway?" 

Looking completely offended, she only replied, "Enough." 

They pulled out of Luna Station optimistic. Though the threat of Marco's plan hung over them, they were determined that he would not succeed. Naomi was constantly pulling new information from their decrypted data package, discovering more and more nuggets they could use. All the while, Bobbie and Chrisjen used the Razorback to search for any ships that might be a part of Marco's armada. They were strategically placed, hidden in asteroid belts or left orbiting a moon. Each one had a data pad on it that the Roci crew had deduced was left there for Marco's crew once they took control to carry out the master plan. They'd already stripped and destroyed a few, but there had to be at least a hundred left out there, maybe more. 

A couple days ago, it was Chrisjen who had stated, "We can't keep this up, wandering around the Sol without direction, blowing up ships that take us days to find." 

Sitting around the table in the mess hall together for a meal, they all agreed. They were wasting precious time with this method. "What do you suggest?" James asked. 

Chrisjen concentrated for a moment. Looking at Naomi, she said, "You say you have a friend in the OPA." The young Belter nodded. "I think it's time to contact them," she said. 

So, that's what Naomi was doing today. She had sent a tightbeam to her contact and was waiting for them to call back at the time she had specified, which was in just a few minutes. Standing at the control console of the command deck, Naomi let out a long breath. She was nervous. 

"She'll help," James said from beside her. 

With a slight shake of her head, Naomi indicated she wasn't so sure. "It's a big ask. I don't know anyone more loyal to the OPA." 

"We're not asking her to betray the Belt," he encouraged. "We're asking her to help them." 

Naomi nodded and released another breath, calming herself. Just then, an incoming message beeped from the console. She tapped to answer it. 

Camina Drummer's familiar face came on the screen. She gave Naomi a warm, albeit, small smile. "Eh, Nagata," Camina said. 

"Drumma," Naomi greeted, her own countenance reflecting a happiness to see the other woman. "How are you?" 

"We are all good on Medina Station," Camina answered. "Except for all these ships scurrying like rats to try to get through the Ring Gates." 

Camina's job as captain of Medina Station had never been an easy one. Being in charge of the Belt's first battleship, not to mention, the largest battleship in space, was quite an undertaking. Belters were known as an unruly bunch and drawing respect from such a large crew proved a challenge. However, Camina Drummer rose to the occasion. Medina was the smoothest run of all the Belt's fleet. 

As part of the UNN's truce with the Belt, Medina was stationed at the Ring Gate, in charge of making sure only sanctioned ships passed through. They also maintained comms with these ships, something Medina was uniquely capable of thanks to its rare interstellar communications laser. They had been installing comms relays through the Ring Gates ever since the first ships went to Ilus. Medina now had comms relays on the other side of almost one hundred gates. 

"Well," Naomi responded, "if anyone can keep that place in order, it's you." 

A genuine half smile forming on the slender woman, Camina said, "Come now, you don't have to flatter me to get my help." 

Naomi's eyes dropped for a second. She and Camina had a deep friendship. Of course the other woman had guessed the reason for her message. "I hate for you to think I only reach out when I need something." 

"You know you can count on me," Camina told her. 

Pausing only for a beat before fully deciding to enlist her friend, Naomi asked, "Is your channel secure?" After a nod from Camina, Naomi tapped a couple buttons to send her their data. Her friend began scrolling through it and Naomi watched as understanding slowly crept into her expression. 

"This is what Marco has been planning all this time?" Camina asked. When Naomi only gave a nod, Camina visibly tensed. She glanced away from the screen and cursed in Belter Creole under her breath. "I am responsible for this," she told Naomi and James. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"We had him," Camina said. "We had him, and I'm the one that made the call to let him go."

Naomi remembered Camina telling her about the fateful reckoning. She and Ashford captured Marco and held him for the factions to decide about. As the tie-breaker in a vote, Camina had chosen mercy and they had released Marco. 

"You can't blame yourself. You had no idea." Naomi tried to comfort her anger. 

"And Klaes Ashford!" Camina shot back. "Am I responsible for him?" 

Naomi had no reply to give. She knew her friend blamed herself for Ashford's death. She quietly said, "I'm sorry for what happened to him." 

Camina thought for a moment, her demeanor steadying again. "He was a Belter among Belters," she said. "We are worse off without him." 

"There's a way you can get justice for his death," Naomi told her. 

Narrowing her eyes slightly, Camina seemed to be weighing what Naomi's request might be. "I'm listening," she said cautiously. 

"We're working with someone from the UN," Naomi began. "We are slowly sabotaging Marco's fleet, but it's taking too long. We need to find him. If we can find out where he is, we have the resources within the UN to get to him, stop him, and save Earth." 

Camina lifted her chin, considering. "And is Earth worth saving?" She asked slowly. 

Naomi's brow knit, surprised at the question. "Camina," she said simply. 

With a sigh, Camina acquiesced. "Alright," she finally agreed. "Who are you working with at the UN?" 

Naomi glanced to James, knowing her friend wouldn't like the answer. "Chrisjen Avasarala." 

Camina's eyes darted away from the screen as more cursing came from her mouth, though this time she didn't try to keep it quiet. "That woman has done nothing but oppress the Belt to serve Earth's interests!" 

"A year ago, I would have agreed with you." Naomi kept her tone even, attempting to sooth her hot blooded friend. "But she's changed." 

"Earthers don't change." Camina was livid. 

Taking a breath, Naomi said, "Look, I'm asking you to trust me. We need your help." 

Naomi watched a dozen emotions play across Camina Drummer's countenance, most of which were some version of furious or frustrated. Finally, she looked at Naomi. "Alright," she agreed, tone disapproving. "What's the plan?" 

A sense of relief coming over her, Naomi exhaled her tension. "I'll call you again when I know."

Jaw set defiantly, Camina nodded, clearly unnerved by the new alliance. "Fine." 

Just as Camina reached to end the call, Naomi told her, "Drumma," the other woman looked back. "Thank you." 

The warm expressions they'd begun the conversation with returned and they exchanged a small smile before disconnecting. 

"Finally," James said. "Some good news." 

Naomi looked at him cautiously. "The UN aligning itself with the Belt to catch a rogue Belter," she mused. "A thousand things could go wrong." 

James covered her small hand with his. "This will work." 

********************

Meanwhile, just on the edge of radio contact with the Rocinante, the Razorback hovered alongside a patrolling Martian cargo ship called Cannon and it's military envoy, The Sun Star . It was exactly the kind of scenario they had been watching for. Ships moving out in deep space could be headed anywhere, or not headed any place at all and simply flying in circles, waiting on a signal of some sort. 

There was a clear pattern with Marco's absconded ships. The names on their transponder codes had been changed, as the crew had done to the Tochi when they first took control, turning it into the Rocinante. Of course, not every crew was gifted with an engineer like Naomi Nagata. Thanks to a hacking device Naomi had created, they were able to look past the transponder to the frequency translator. This tiny piece of tech, built deep into every transponder, was unable to be reprogrammed without serious work around. Only a handful of Belters were capable of such a feat. The Roci boasted one. 

Naomi's device was able to tell them what the ship's real name was by gaining access to the translator. The only downside was that the device had to be close to the transponder - very close. 

Tiny beads of sweat were forming at Bobbie Draper's hairline as she rolled the Razor ever so slightly to hug the larger cargo ship's outer hull. The engines were powered down to keep them in stealth mode and they were relegated to thrusters, which were notoriously inaccurate for direction, especially on a ship as small as the Razorback. One hairpin touch too heavy on the joystick would have them tapping whatever ship they were stalking. A boat as large as this one might not notice, but then again, they might. 

Barely daring to touch the control stick, Bobbie made the slightest contact with it, nudging it only a few millimeters. 

"Can you get it?" Bobbie asked her copilot. 

A second later, a low voice answered, "Not yet. Can you move starboard a little more?" 

"Shit," Bobbie breathed out, quietly. "I'll try." 

After another miniscule tap at the stick, her companion announced, "Got it!" Chrisjen Avasarala pushed the button to begin the hack. Naomi had made it as easy to operate as possible and the older woman was grateful. She was still learning space tech. 

She watched the digital display working to translate data as Bobbie asked, "Does it check out?" 

It only took a second to get the answer. Slightly disappointed, Chrisjen said, "Confirmed. It's the Cannon." 

"Alright then." 

She could hear the let down in Bobbie's voice too. Hours wasted only to confirm that these two ships were exactly what they claimed to be. It was getting irritating. They'd found a few imposters along the way, yes. Most of them were abandoned and appeared to be simple salvage jobs. After being discovered by the Roci, they were reduced to scraps of metal floating through the Sol. The ones that weren't already empty had been given the opportunity to abandon ship. So far, they all had. The Roci had destroyed those ships too, thankful that the dilemma of whether to kill a crew hadn't come up. 

Bobbie moved to shift the Razor away from the hull. However, at the same moment the Cannon made the tiniest adjustment in its course. "Fuck!" Bobbie exclaimed as she watched the large ship float dangerously close to the Razor. 

"Got it," Chrisjen said calmly, tapping a button for an exhaust valve. The valve released the smallest amount of gas into space, just enough to propel them away from the ship. 

Releasing a breath, Bobbie said, "Nice. Let's get out of here." 

One side of Chrisjen's lips lifted at the one word compliment. They both tapped a couple of buttons, shutting down the Razor's thrusters. The Cannon slipped by, completely unaware of their presence. They waited while watching the two ships become smaller and smaller on the display screen. 

Watching the sensors, Chrisjen said, "Clear." 

"Prepare for high G," Bobbie ordered. 

Chrisjen's heart instantly began to beat faster and butterflies formed in her stomach. A year ago those words would have terrified her. Now, they thrilled her. As Bobbie reached overhead to flip a few switches on the ceiling panels, Chrisjen flicked her hand, bringing up her holographic display. She tapped the appropriate buttons, powering up the stabilizers and control cores. 

With a slight grin, she told Bobbie, "Punch it." 

Punch it, she did. Instantly both women were thrown into the backs of their seats. Chrisjen kept her eyes on her readouts. It was her job to manipulate the coolant tanks when one of the coils became too hot, which was inevitable at the speeds Bobbie preferred. High G on the Razorback wasn't like high G on the transport ships Chrisjen had been on in the past. The Razor was smooth. She hummed with efficiency. 

Soon, her lit up screen began blinking an orange dot indicating one of the power coils was getting hot. There was still plenty of time before it overheated, but Chrisjen preferred to cool it as quickly as possible to extend the life of the coil. She tapped the corresponding coolant tank and the orange light turned green almost instantly. 

Chrisjen looked forward to Bobbie's seat. The one thing she didn't like about the Razor was the gimbal lock set up with the seats. The pilot sat forward and the copilot, aft, with both facing front. As much as she enjoyed the view of Bobbie's tight, round ass, she didn't like not being able to see her face. It was exactly why she'd had the camera rigging installed back on Earth. 

The force of gravity made it difficult to move. With a grunt, Chrisjen reached to turn on the cameras, one in front of her, one in front of Bobbie. Bobbie's face appeared, her expression concentrating on the task of flying the boat. 

"I want to try something," Chrisjen spoke to the camera, her voice elevated slightly against the sound of the engines. "I think I can get you more power without using more fuel." 

Eyebrows lifting, Bobbie replied, "That sounds great." 

Using her hand, Chrisjen pulled her display closer. She easily swiped her way through the nav system until she came to the fuel mix. She would have to make the adjustment manually, which meant only one burst. Using a finger to control the level with precision, Chrisjen let the hydrogen gas into one of the drives. The drive is programmed to only hold the gas for a millisecond before releasing it into a cell that would convert it into plasma. Chrisjen hoped that by extending the hydrogen's exposure to ionization, it would increase how much plasma was produced. 

She would have to be fast. Too much plasma would blow the drive. In rapid succession, she tapped to open the cell, then quickly tapped again to close it. It was less than a second, but longer than the cell was usually open. 

"Increase to six G's," Chrisjen told her young pilot. 

The moment Bobbie complied, they experienced the most effortless increase of speed. Chrisjen could feel the gravity grow more forceful, but it was a gentler transition. 

Bobbie gave a triumphant laugh, clearly enjoying the speed. "This is amazing!" She called back to her companion. "It barely even registered the RPMs." 

As soon as the acceleration came, it decreased. It would be impossible for anyone to manually control every pulse, but it would be possible to change the system's configuration. Chrisjen was glad the experiment worked. It would allow their hydrogen to last longer. 

It was only a moment later, that the Rocinante came into view on the screen. Alex's voice came over the comms. "Comin' in a little hot there, eh, Bobbie." 

"Blame Chrisjen for that one," Bobbie told him. Chrisjen could hear the smile in her voice. "She's onto something with the drives." 

"Good to hear," he said. "You're just in time. Dinner's about ready." 

With practiced ease, Bobbie connected the Razor's outer door to the Roci's main airlock. Both women unbuckled their harnesses. While Bobbie hopped right out of her seat, Chrisjen took a couple deep breaths, closing her eyes and centering herself. This part still took her minute. The high G haze in her vision took longer to fade than it did for the younger woman. 

When she opened her eyes, Bobbie was standing beside her seat, hand extended, prepared to steady her. The move always offended Chrisjen, even when she needed it. Furrowing her brow, Chrisjen waved her hand dismissively at Bobbie's gesture. The former marine gave her a close lipped quirk at the corner of her mouth. 

"You sure?" Bobbie asked quietly. 

"If I needed help, I'd fucking ask for it," Chrisjen said, still not making a move to stand. 

"No you wouldn't." With that, Bobbie gave her a playful slap on the shoulder and went to exit the ship. 

One more breath and Chrisjen joined her. Her head was spinning slightly, something the artificial gravity of the Rocinante would help. The familiar click, click, click of their mag boots could be heard as they made their way down the narrow passageways to the small mess hall. 

Everyone had already gathered and were preparing their plates with another thawed meal that had been packaged on Luna. Despite the lack of fine dining, Chrisjen looked forward to each meal. She hadn't expected to grow so fond of this crew. Being a part of this team was far different from any other team she'd been a part of. Perhaps it was because each of them shared the load equally, or it may have been that these people were much less uptight than the politicians and military strategists she was accustomed to working with. Part of her was also relieved not to be the captain. Not having to play the part of leader made her more free to appreciate each one of them. 

As she and Bobbie entered the room, they all said their hellos. Alex passed Bobbie a plate and Amos passed Chrisjen one. They all sat around the table wearing their unofficial uniforms, the black Rocinante flight suits. The time was used to process the events of the day, as well as catch up on what needed to be done aboard ship. 

Once they had all settled, Bobbie informed them, "The Cannon checked out." 

Everyone gave a nod as they ate. They expected the news. Far more ships checked out than didn't and Amos was getting antsy to blow something up. 

After a moment, Chrisjen said, "We can't keep doing this." She sighed in frustration. "It's taking too much fucking time, and we're no closer to finding Marco." 

"Well," James spoke up, "Naomi might have some good news there." 

Everyone looked at her, interested. Naomi perked up, happy to deliver some optimism. "Drumma's in." 

Shoulders squared around the table as everyone sat up straighter. This changed things. "Good news indeed," Chrisjen said. 

"We have a meeting scheduled for about twelve hours from now to discuss her role." 

Thinking for a moment, Chrisjen asked, "Does she know I'm involved." She watched Naomi look to James for a second and then nod. "And?" 

"She's not your biggest fan," Naomi answered, the tone of her voice inferring that she agreed with her friend's stance.

Chrisjen could only guess that the Belter captain's response had probably been much more colorful. She sat back, understanding that she would have to win the woman over, both Belters really. Though she and Naomi had come a long way, it was obvious the young woman still didn't approve of her. She gave a slight shrug. "That's probably fair." The answer drew a light chuckle from the group. 

Changing the subject, Alex asked, "Hey, what was with the speed burst on your way in?" 

Bobbie swallowed a bite and said, "Chrisjen's been working on a way to push more plasma into the power cells." 

At that, Naomi's interest was piqued. "Yeah?" 

Chrisjen glanced up from her food to see several pairs of eyes on her, curious as to her innovation. "It's simple really," she said, downplaying. "Just suspend the ionization process another fraction of a second."

Naomi nodded slowly, thinking. "That is simple. And smart." 

Seeing an opening to deepen their truce, Chrisjen added. "I don't know enough about how to program the system to make it practical, though." 

"I can help with that," Naomi quickly replied. She was always eager for an engineering puzzle. Chrisjen gave her a smile. 

********************

The bunk in their quarters was small. Enough for one, but just barely enough for two, and two only worked if both were cuddlers. Thankfully, they were. The sheets were rough and the poly blend blanket was even more rough. There was a button above the bunk that offered a night light, but its fluorescent glow offended Chrisjen's eyes. 

In fact, most things about space proved to still bother her intensely. The water rations made for much too short showers, the food left a lot to be desired. Everything was made of dark, cold, dingy metal and the scent of engine seemed to be stuck in every nook and cranny. The closet could only hold a few of her favorite outfits, though they were completely impractical here. 

Chrisjen was leaning against the wall of the bunk, what would have been a warm, wooden headboard at home. She had the tips of her hair playing in her fingers as she studied the split ends. She pushed the thought away that it would be ages before she would see her stylist. If she focused too much on the little things, it would be easy to become discouraged. With a sigh, she let go of her hair and looked up just as Bobbie came out from the small bathroom. 

Her hair was damp from her shower. Christen could never help observing her for a while when she was fresh out of the shower. Bobbie's hair was long with a natural wave that only showed itself when wet, much like Chrisjen's own dark curls. Once dry, the curl disappeared. Chrisjen could only conclude that she liked it so much because it was something about Bobbie that only she knew. 

Watching while the young woman slipped on a pair of boy short underwear and a tank top, Chrisjen asked, "Do you like being out in space?" 

Bobbie slowed her movements, considering the question. "I like it alright, I suppose." 

"If you had to be tied down to a planet for the rest of your life, could you do it?" Chrisjen was curious to hear the answer. 

Turning to look at her companion, Bobbie narrowed her eyes slightly, thinking. "I don't know." She came to sit on the floor beside the bunk, resting her forearms on the edge. "Why do you ask?" 

Chrisjen laid her hand gently over one of Bobbie's. "You're so wild and free," she said. "Part of me thinks you belong out here, galavanting around the system, driving your goddamn ship as fast as you want." 

Bobbie's gaze slipped over Chrisjen's features. "What does the other part of you think?" 

Sinking down into the scratchy blankets, Chrisjen rolled to her side, tucking an arm under her pillow and facing Bobbie. With a tender smile, she answered, "That you belong on Mother Earth… the most beautiful person in the Sol making herself part of the most beautiful place in the galaxy."

Lifting a hand to Chrisjen's cheek, Bobbie leaned over to press a lingering kiss on her lips. "The idea of a life on Earth with you is enough to tame the wildest part of me." 

Expression softening, Chrisjen couldn't help her growing smile. It was unexpected, the way Bobbie talked sometimes. Chrisjen loved words and she was a sucker for a good line. She adored it when Bobbie delivered one. Suddenly, though, it wasn't quite the answer she wanted to hear. After all, it was Bobbie's forceful sense of self that had always drawn her. "I think I might prefer you a little wild." 

Grinning, Bobbie pulled the blankets back and climbed into the small bed. They scooted close to each other, hands held with interlocking fingers between them, nose to nose. 

Kissing her forehead, Bobbie said, "I know this isn't easy for you, being in space." 

"The company makes it better." With her free hand, she lightly ran her fingernails up and down Bobbie's arm and watched her eyelids grow heavier. "My wild Martian," she said softly.

Bobbie sank into the blankets beside her, releasing a breath, and Chrisjen reached up to turn off the offensive fluorescent light. The gentle hum of the Roci's engines began to lull them to sleep. 

*********************

Several hours later, the crew was gathered on the command deck, waiting for their tightbeam transmission to reach Camina Drummer. Naomi tapped away at the console, making the tiniest adjustment in the radio waves to make for the cleanest broadcast. After a few minutes, Camina's stern countenance came over the monitor. 

"Drumma," Naomi greeted. The young Belter captain simply gave a single nod in reply. "Thanks for getting back on with me." 

"Have you come up with a plan to find Marco yet?" She asked solemnly.

"We think so," Naomi replied. "We want to set up a black network, anonymous, where anyone can leave information that may lead to Marco's capture." 

"How do you plan to get this network out to the Belt?" 

Naomi hesitated for a second before answering. "We need someone to leak it." 

Camina's jaw tensed. Though black networks were extremely difficult to track, it wasn't impossible. With the information that this particular network would gather, it was certain that Belters all over the Sol would attempt to hack it to see where it originated. Marco had agents in hiding all across the system. If anyone knew Camina was working against him, as prominent as she was, she would easily become a target. 

After a long pause as she considered the request, the captain asked, "How can you ensure the network's security?" 

Naomi grinned slightly, "You really doubt me?" 

Camina shook her head. "Launching a campaign like this against Marco, asking publicly for support, for information about his whereabouts? I don't know, Nagata." 

"Drumma, please-,"

"Captain." Suddenly, Chrisjen addressed Camina, stepping closer to the monitor. She admired the way the young woman lifted her chin defiantly, further exposing her stark tattoos. "How would you suggest we find him?" 

Camina lifted an eyebrow at the question, clearly not expecting it. "Excuse me?" She asked in a low tone. 

"You are the captain of the Belt's premiere battleship," Chrisjen said, intentionally stroking her ego. Young people could never resist flattery. "You've been entrusted by all the factions and the UN/Martian Coalition to guard the entrance to the Ring Gates." She watched as Camina's square shoulders began to relax. "You are one of the most powerful and influential Belters there is. You don't accomplish that without being incredibly intelligent. So you tell us. How do you think we should find him?" 

Dropping her gaze and exhaling, Camina gave in. "The black network is a good idea," she told them. "But it needs to have a message attached to it that is convincing enough to get the Belters to give you anything, and it's algorithm needs to be simple enough to be easily accessed." 

Naomi sarcastically said, "Easily accessed and unhackable. Check." The two attributes didn't typically go together. It would be a challenge.

"What should the message say?" Chrisjen asked. 

"Let them know that there are factions out there that believe Marco's work is dangerous to the Belt. He's not working for them, he's working for himself." Her expression changing, Camina added, "And let them know he killed Klaes Ashford." Her eyes dropped again and she swallowed thickly. "Marco and Anderson Dawes share a following. Dawes appointed Ashford as my second," she explained. "If members of Dawes' insurgents know that one of their own faction killed Ashford, they may be swayed." 

Chrisjen nodded. "Thank you, Captain." Without a goodbye, Camina unceremoniously ended the transmission. Turning to Naomi, Chrisjen asked, "Is she always so pleasant." 

"That actually is her being pleasant," Naomi responded. "Shockingly, she doesn't appear to hate you." There was a slight disdain to her tone that Chrisjen didn't like. 

She rolled her eyes. Naomi's constant jabs annoyed her. "Should I dictate the message, or do you need a hand job before we can continue?" 

Amos and Alex had to stifle a laugh while Bobbie attempted to school the wide grin on her face. 

"Ladies," James said plainly.

They both looked at James, irritated, then back to each other. "Keep it short," Naomi said, "None of your long winded speeches." 

Chrisjen shook her head and glanced to Bobbie, who simply held her hands up indicating Chrisjen was on her own. "Fine," she agreed. "People of the Belt-"

"No," Naomi interrupted immediately. "It can't sound like it's coming from someone at the UN." 

She actually had a point, Chrisjen though. She tried to switch gears in her head. With forcefulness in her deep voice, Chrisjen began again, "Beltalowda." Naomi gave her a genuine smile of approval at that and began typing. "For generations, we have fought for our existence and for the rights common to the inner planets. Despite that every faction has disagreements on how to gain and keep our independence, we can all agree on one thing - we want freedom for the Belt." Chrisjen watched as Naomi nodded slightly while she typed. "We should also all agree that war with the inner planets is not the way to accomplish this freedom. War will only further-"

"Long winded," Naomi reminded her. 

Chrisjen exhaled slowly against her frustration. She was right. They needed to keep it short. "What was the last thing I said?" 

"War is not the way to accomplish this freedom." 

Nodding, Chrisjen continued. "Marco Inaros is seeking to make war with the inner planets, a war that will only further oppress us." She thought quickly about how to wrap it up. "Help us stop this man. If you know anything about how to find him, tell us. This is for the Belt and for every Belter." 

Chrisjen finished. Naomi continued typing, adding a couple Belter Creole words into the paragraph to make it more authentic. Chrisjen slowly realized that she believed in the words she had spoken more than she thought she would. Maybe this wasn't just about Marco or saving Earth. Maybe they could help the Belt too. Chrisjen physically shook her head. One impossible thing at a time. 

"Alright then," Naomi said. "How do we sign it?"

"Sign it?" Chrisjen asked. 

"Sure. We have to sign it somehow." 

James spoke up, "Like a pseudonym?" 

"We attach a name to this message and suddenly the Belt has another crusader," Naomi said. "Too many Belters see Marco as the only person who will stand up for them. Let's give them another." 

They all thought about it. A proper name for a proper freedom fighter. Bobbie lifted her hand slightly. "I've got it," she announced. Looking at Chrisjen, she said, "What about Archangel." 

The others began to agree, but Chrisjen wasn't so sure. "Hold on. Is that too obvious?" 

"Your call sign is not common knowledge," Bobbie answered. 

"Plus, it sounds pretty cool," Amos added. 

Naomi slowly said the name as she typed it out. "Archangel. Done." She pushed a few more buttons and breathed out. "That's it, it's done. I'll send it to Drumma. Then it's up to her to get it out to the proper people in the Belt." 

"Let's hope she doesn't hesitate," Chrisjen said. "We're running out of time."


	4. Taking off the Gloves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew catches a break in their search for Marco, but encounters unforseen consequences that could result in a huge loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving along quickly. Hopefully, we'll have some time to linger in the next chapter.

Maintenance was constant on a ship like the Rocinante. Something always needed to be fixed or upgraded to keep up with the high demand the crew put on their boat. Whether it be a component in the coolant tanks or a gasket in the engine, the crew spent much of their down time making repairs. The first time she was aboard the Roci on their mission to IO, Chrisjen had felt badly that she wasn't able to help out. She did her best, but tools weren't exactly her forte. Her second time aboard the ship proved to be different. 

Chrisjen was determined to earn her keep. She'd purposefully learned much about the Razorback's systems on Earth so she would be able to assist in any maintenance needed. Now she used her time to educate herself on the Roci. Amos turned out to be a good teacher and they spent long hours on the engineering deck working together. Despite Bobbie being slighted at times by the interaction, the entire crew agreed that Chrisjen had a calming effect on the Baltimore bad boy. Also everyone, including Bobbie, knew Chrisjen kept Amos's little crush going to tease the young Martian. At least it made for a little fun during the long stretches in deep space. 

Today, Amos was showing Chrisjen how to change one of the coils in the plasma injectors. He had taken apart the injector himself while she watched. He handed her tools while he grabbed new ones and each time she put one down, she was sure to wipe the lubricant grease on her flight suit. She hated smelling like engine grease, and she couldn't stand the way the stuff got under her fingernails. 

"Okay, come over here," Amos said to her. 

Scooting closer until they were both hunkered over the injector, Chrisjen asked, "What am I looking at?" 

He pointed to a part. "This is the plasma case." She observed the metal case with plexiglass cutouts. The contents glowed blue like the ones on the Razorback. "Simple enough, right?" 

Nodding, she said, "I have a feeling it gets less simple."

He smiled at her, something he only seemed to do in her presence. "Yep." Moving his hand, Amos indicated another part. "This isn't like the Razor. That engine was built for speed. It cuts out as many components as it can to get the plasma into the coil as fast as possible. With the Roci, the plasma has to go through a couple more steps." 

Chrisjen listened intently while he explained the ins and outs of the Martian Corvette class gunship's plasma relays. She understood some of it. Her brow knit together when she stopped understanding. Thankfully, Amos caught the look and paused mid sentence. 

"Let's just put the new part in," he said. "You're more of a hands on learner anyway." She lifted her lips slightly, appreciating that he had taken the time to adjust to her pace. He was a good teacher indeed. He pulled out the new coil. "Okay, grab a nine millimeter wrench." 

"Quiz time?" She questioned, half joking. She turned to the tool kit and looked around. 

"You've been learning the tools pretty well." 

Using only a thumb and forefinger, Chrisjen gingerly picked up the small wrench and moved to hand it to him. 

"Oh, no," he said. "Your turn." 

"No," she said, voice low with hesitancy. "You do it." She gave him an encouraging look, hoping to deter him. 

"Nope." He didn't take the bait. "You keep saying you wanna learn this stuff." 

With a sigh, Chrisjen turned back to the glowing injector. "Alright, fine." He guided her, pointing to the correct spot. "Fuck," she breathed out. "I'm going to blow the whole thing up."

Chuckling, he reassured her, "Not with a nine millimeter wrench. Promise." 

Pursing her lips, she looked at him, disapproving. She squinted her eyes against the plasma's illumination. Slipping the wrench into place, Chrisjen applied pressure to the handle. It didn't budge.

"Come on, Chrissy," Amos said to her. "Put some elbow grease into it." 

"I don't do elbow grease," she replied firmly. It was true. Tapping buttons was easy. She had plenty of practice as Secretary General of the United Nations of Earth. Half her job was tapping. Chrisjen was supremely skilled in the art of tap, tap, tapping away at holographic screens, data pads, and monitors of all kinds. Whether it be an order for a grain shipment across the world, or the nav system of the Razorback, tapping buttons was no problem. Nuts and bolts, on the other hand, was not a skill she'd mastered.

However, Amos was right. She was the one who had asked to learn. Gripping the handle of the wrench tightly, Chrisjen grit her teeth and pushed down against the bolt. It gave way quickly under more force and her knuckles banged into the side of the injector housing. She hissed with the slight pain and released the wrench. Protectively pulling her hand into her, she surveyed the damage. A few skinned fingers. One was almost bleeding. She grimaced, displeased with her clumsy performance. 

"Well, lookie there, Amos said. "Your first battle wound." The approving grin on his face assuaged her self doubt. She couldn't help but smile back. "Try the next one." 

The next bolt proved easier, as did the next four. She quickly got the hang of putting her weight behind her effort and staying tense enough that her hand didn't fly of its own accord once the bolt was loosened. With the bolts gone, Amos removed the cover, exposing the damaged coil. 

"Alright," he said, pointing again. "See where the coil was leaking?" Following him, Chrisjen nodded. "There's our problem. Plasma's already hard enough to find out here. Any that we lose through a bad coil is a big deal." He nodded back at her hand, still holding the wrench. "Bang on it a few times to loosen it." 

"Bang on it?" She repeated, a little disbelieving. "Bang on the plasma injector coil." Now she was being sarcastic. "Why don't I just hit the fucking self distruct." 

He laughed lightly. "The coil is already broken, not to mention inert. Will you just trust me?" With another heavy sigh, Chrisjen hit the coil a few times until it easily fell away from its housing. She hummed with satisfaction. "See?" 

Patiently walking her through the process of installing the new coil, Chrisjen took it all in. By the end of it, hydraulic fluid and engine soot was all over her hands. Eventually, she stopped trying to wipe it off. It was pointless. However, the pride she felt once the new coil was running smoothly was worth it. 

"Nice job," Amos said, holding his hand up for a high five. With a chuckle, she lightly slapped his hand. She never would have guessed a few years ago that she'd be hunched over in the engine room of a Martian battleship learning to change an injector coil. "Okay, let's do the rest," Amos instructed. 

"What?" Chrisjen was exasperated. "How many more are there?" 

Just then, Naomi popped through the door, out of breath. They both gave her their full attention. Clearly, something was up. 

"We've got a lead," Naomi told them. "A good one." 

The two engineers looked at each other and moved to get up. Quickly stowing their tools, they left with Naomi and headed to the command deck. 

The rest of the crew was already there, huddled around the monitor. Chrisjen slipped up beside Bobbie. The younger woman gave her a glance and did a double take. With a small, affectionate smile, Bobbie reached to wipe a small bit of grease from her cheek. Eyes darting around as if she forgot herself, she quickly dropped her hand. Bobbie noticed Chrisjen's dirty hands. 

"Looks like you've been busy," she said quietly. 

"Yes, well," Chrisjen replied, "Let's just say if anything happens to Amos, or Naomi, or James, I might be able to keep a quarter of the ship running." 

Bobbie tried to school the smile that came with the joke. "I'm sure you're becoming quite capable." 

Naomi's voice broke into their conversation. "Drumma sent this just a few minutes ago." She opened a file, revealing several dossiers. "She thinks these are captains of some of the ships Marco is using for his plan." 

Chrisjen's lips parted at the news. This was big. She watched Naomi flip through a few of the faces, landing on one. Chrisjen narrowed her eyes. He looked familiar, but she couldn't place him. Then Naomi spoke again. 

"This is Nathan Davar," she told them. "Captain of the Tucker. And look where he's been recently." She quickly swiped her hand, bringing up another file and cross referencing. Chrisjen easily recognized camera footage from a docking station on Luna. Davar was getting on a transport there.

Luna. That was where she'd seen him. 

"Wait," Chrisjen said, leaning in toward the screen. "I saw him on Luna, just before the attack." 

"Yes," Naomi confirmed. She paused the station footage and pulled up a side by side of Davar's face. It was definitely him. "I've spent hours scouring all the footage from Luna after the attack. I thought I recognized him and ran a facial recognition just in case." 

Beside her, Bobbie spoke, her tone tense. "Hold on, you're saying this guy was behind the attack on Chrisjen?" 

"He was definitely there," Naomi said. 

"Where is he now?" The former marine asked anxiously. 

"Funny you should ask," Naomi answered. Gesturing with her hand, she pushed the photos aside and pulled up a navigation chart. "I tracked the Tucker's transponder here." She pointed to the map. Everyone breathed in. The Tucker was close by, within hours. Finally, a break.

"What are we waiting for?" Bobbie posed. "Let's go get him." 

They all looked around at each other. There was no other option. If Drummer's intel was right, they had to stop him, and he was too close to let him slip through their fingers. No more hunting ships in the dark. It was time to take the gloves off. They nodded an understanding. They were all on the same page. 

James said, "Alright then. Amos, Bobbie," he looked at his two best fighters. "You're with me. We'll board from the Razor, take Davar quietly and sneak him off the Tucker." He laid out the plan. "We'll disable the ship, set it adrift, and bring Davar aboard the Roci." 

"We should blow the ship," Bobbie suggested. James, along with Chrisjen, looked at her with a knit brow. "We can't risk that crew getting rescued before we get to Marco. They'll warn him we're coming." 

"We're not blowing the ship," James said, resolute. "Besides, we only have one more missile and with our countermeasures down, we need to be as cautious as possible." 

It was true. They'd blown their missile defense system a few days ago in a small skirmish over parts with a salvage ship. James was right. They needed to conserve their resources and not make too much trouble. 

But Bobbie didn't let it go. "That would be a mistake," she countered simply. "We destroy this one like the others."

Chrisjen asked Naomi, "How many souls aboard his ship?" 

Quickly looking over the data, she answered, "Couple dozen, it looks like." 

Glancing between them, Chrisjen said firmly, "We stick with Holden's plan." Bobbie shook her head roughly in frustration. "We're not killers," she insisted. 

With a raised voice, Bobbie insisted, "You're willing to risk everything we're working for, billions of lives on Earth, for what?" She was suddenly breathing hard. "So that we don't lose our own morality?" Scoffing, she finished with, "I can't believe you, of all people, would be concerned about that." 

The air was instantaneously sucked from the room. Lifting her chin defiantly, Chrisjen swallowed thickly. It was a hit below the belt, true though it may be. She had compromised her very humanity with the deeds she'd done in the past. Torture, assassination, conspiracy… Chrisjen was guilty of all of it. All in the name of Earth. She couldn't change the past, she could only atone. 

Bobbie was angry, though Chrisjen didn't understand why. She'd never seen her jump to such an extreme measure.

Voice controlled despite the sting in her heart and the anger in her belly, Chrisjen slowly said, "We stick with Holden's plan." 

Expression hard, Bobbie stalked passed her and off the command deck. Tension hung over the rest of them as they remained silent. 

After a second, James quietly stated, "Let's get ready." 

Everyone began to move. Chrisjen allowed her shoulders to slump, taking in a few cleansing breaths. Bobbie's words were cutting, and out of character. She could take judgement from anyone, she didn't give a fuck what people thought. But Bobbie… Chrisjen was surprised how deep the jab went. She couldn't remember the last time a verbal attack had affected her. 

Her thoughts were interrupted when Naomi came up beside her. "Camina mentioned something else," Naomi said. 

Pushing aside her emotion, Chrisjen asked, "What?" 

"The black net we put out got a lot of hits," Naomi informed her. "She said people are talking, wanting to know who Archangel is." 

Nodding slowly, Chrisjen considered. "Maybe we can use that curiosity somehow, encourage the Belters to stand up to Marco." Naomi agreed. 

Moving to leave, Chrisjen decided to help ready the Razorback for the mission ahead. First she needed to get this sticky, smelly grease off her hands. Making her way down the short corridor, she came to the quarters she shared with Bobbie, assuming the other woman was already working. She wasn't sure if wanted to see Bobbie at the moment. 

Tapping the entry button, the door slid open. Chrisjen was surprised to see Bobbie standing in the middle of the room, her back to the door. She had undoubtedly heard her enter. Neither of them moved, but Chrisjen didn't miss the sound of a soft sniffle coming from the younger woman. Nor was Bobbie able to hide the way she roughly wiped her eyes even though she was turned away from her.

All of Chrisjen's hurt melted away instantly. Bobbie wordlessly shifted to go to her locker, attempting to keep her companion from seeing her tear stained face. Chrisjen stepped through the door, allowing it to close behind her. Finally, it was just them, alone, in their safe space. 

Taking slow steps, Chrisjen came behind Bobbie. Hesitantly, afraid of pushing her farther away, Chrisjen reached out to rest her hands at Bobbie hips. When no rage was directed at her, she stepped closer, wrapping her arms lightly around her Martian and leaning her cheek at Bobbie's back, against the fabric of her flight suit. 

Soon, she felt familiar hands cover her own and Bobbie leaned back into her. They both released a breath, the gesture somehow speaking an apology between them. Bobbie turned in her arms, pulling her in and enfolding Chrisjen in a tight embrace. They stood like that, as minutes passed. 

Eventually, Bobbie pulled back, only enough to meet Chrisjen's eyes. She spoke gently, a stark contrast to her tone on the command deck. "I don't care how many of them there are. I don't care about being a murderer." Her gaze flickered over Chrisjen's features. "I will go through anyone to keep you safe." 

Of course it was Bobbie's loyalty that motivated her emotion. How could Chrisjen not know that? "Bobbie-"

"I'm sorry for what I said. You didn't deserve that." 

"It's okay-" But Bobbie interrupted again. 

"No, it's not. That's not who you are anymore." She pulled Chrisjen back against her, a hand on her still somehow impeccable hair. "I just can't help but think that the farther we get from Earth, the more danger you're in. I can feel it, I swear." The timber of her voice cracked and Chrisjen wanted nothing more than to lay down in bed with her, hold her and caress her until her fears were soothed. Unfortunately, they didn't have time for that. 

"I'm always safe with you," Chrisjen told her. 

"They tried to kill you on Luna," Bobbie noted. "Now we're bringing the ringleader aboard our ship. What if he tries again?" 

"He can try," Chrisjen assured, "but he will not succeed." Bobbie glanced away, unsure. With a hand at her cheek, Chrisjen guided her eyes back. "People have tried to kill me before and you know what stopped them?" Bobbie gave a tiny shake of her head. Gently smiling, Chrisjen told her, "You." 

With a sigh, Bobbie leaned her forehead against Chrisjen's. Shifting to nuzzle her nose just below Chrisjen's jaw, Bobbie held her close. Letting her eyes slip closed, Chrisjen relaxed into her. When Bobbie moved to bring their lips together, Chrisjen melted into the contact, wondering how she could fall even harder for Bobbie Draper right after she'd insulted her so plainly. She was unsure of when it happened, but at some point, she'd given Bobbie a level of control over her that she'd never allowed before. Bobbie was her solace, the single reminder that she must've done something right and good for the universe to bring them together after she'd lost so much and done so much.

They kissed each other easily, allowing the affection to settle them both. Their hands began to wander, from shoulders to cheeks, to chests, to hips, always wanting to be close. Chrisjen enjoyed feeling Bobbie against her. There was no expectation in the touches, only comfort and she loved how they always ended up on the same page. 

Finally, they pulled apart from each other. Bobbie said, "We should help the others." Even as she said it, she made no move to release Chrisjen. 

"Do you need a plasma coil changed," Chrisjen asked playfully. "Because I can do that now." 

Bobbie gave a light chuckle and replied, "Very impressive," before kissing her one last time. 

********************

An hour later, James, Amos, and Bobbie were ready to board the Razor and intercept Davar's ship. The small racer was docked with the Roci, the airlock between the two ships open, as they loaded it with the few supplies they were taking, mostly weapons. Bobbie checked the ammunition one last time. Then she passed two extra magazines to each of her companions. The last thing they needed was to run out of bullets, though James had insisted on tasers to lower their chances of making too much noise. 

"I think we're ready," James said. 

"I'll power up the Razor," Amos said. 

"Stay out of the captain's chair," Bobbie joked. Amos raised an eyebrow in jest. 

Just then, Chrisjen came quietly around the corner. Catching Bobbie's eye, she tilted her head toward the corridor. With a nod and look back to the Razor's open door, she followed Chrisjen down the hall a few steps. 

When their eyes met, Bobbie recognized a look she'd only seen a few times. Worry. Chrisjen's arms were crossed protectively in front of her and she was looking at Bobbie with an expression full of concern. 

"We'll be fine," the Martian assured her. 

"I know," Chrisjen said, clearly not convinced. As they looked at each other, the older woman leaned forward and Bobbie was suddenly met with sure arms coming around her shoulders, drawing her in. She returned the hug, wrapping her strong arms around a slender torso. "Just be careful." 

The corner of her lips lifting softly, Bobbie tried to set her at ease. "Always." She found herself wishing Chrisjen's hair was down so she could bury her nose in the scent. 

Then, Chrisjen shifted to press a kiss at her neck and quietly said the words that made Bobbie feel as if she were the most important person in the entire Sol. "I love you." Bobbie shut her eyes and squeezed the small body in her arms, trying to commit to memory the sound of the words in that deep, perfect timbre. Chrisjen pulled away with, "Don't do anything fucking stupid." 

"Me?" Bobbie tried to joke, shaking off her emotion. "Never." The other woman didn't crack a smile and it made Bobbie's own grin fall. "We'll be fine," she said, repeating her first comment. 

"I know," Chrisjen said again. 

They were interrupted as Amos poked his head around the corner. "Hey, sorry ladies, but we're ready Bobbie." 

She nodded at him and turned back to Chrisjen, who finally gave her an encouraging smile. "See you soon." Lingering for a second before returning to her crew, Bobbie quickly pulled the hatch and turned the lock, making sure to avert her gaze from the small window. One more worried look from Chrisjen and she knew her resolve for the mission would waiver. 

********************

The Razorback's stealth had proven to be an extreme advantage in the last few weeks, but no more than right now. Their target lay in the distance, close enough to be seen with the naked eye. Bobbie kept their speed minimal, ensuring the stealth tech functioned properly. Of course, neither of the boys could copilot the Razor, leaving Bobbie to do both jobs. She concentrated as best she could. Approaching the Tucker, Bobbie began to maneuver the sleek racer alongside the cargo freighter. 

Of course, Amos chose the moment when she needed all her focus to nonchalantly ask, "So when are we gonna talk about what's going on between you and Chrissy?" 

"What?" Bobbie asked, shortly. "You're bringing this up now?" 

"So there is something," Amos said, satisfied. He looked at James. "Told ya." 

Bobbie rolled her eyes. Was this really happening right now? 

"No, you didn't," James shot back. "Everyone already knew the first time you brought it up." 

"Can this wait?" Bobbie asked, dumbfounded. 

Amos's tone was casual, as if they weren't about to board an enemy vessel with the purpose of kidnapping its captain and escaping without getting caught. "Chrissy's a good woman," he said lightly. "You're lucky." 

"Stop calling her that," Bobbie snapped. She was suddenly tense. Her relationship with Chrisjen had never been a topic of discussion before. But maybe it would make things easier if it were out in the open, she thought. After a long pause, she confirmed, "I am lucky." 

A moment later, James asked, "When did it start?" 

Hesitant to answer, not knowing how much she should share and still not enjoying being the center of conversation, she gave the short answer. "Just before the ring appeared." She glanced over to see both men with raised eyebrows. "What?" Amos let out a laugh he'd obviously been holding in. "What?" Bobbie was getting irritated. 

"Bobbie, that was over a year ago," James stated, surprised it had been going on so long.

She rolled her eyes again, sticking to the short version. "It's complicated." 

"I'll say," Amos scoffed. "The UN Secretary General and a dishonorably discharged Martian marine?" That prompted a frustrated sigh from Bobbie. "Quite a couple." 

"You finished?" She shot him a firm look. 

Holding up a hand, James said, "Hey, we're all happy for you both." She looked over to see two sincere grins and the honesty set her slightly at ease. Boys, she thought. Just then, James said to Amos, "Looks like that leaves you and Alex." 

They all chuckled at the joke. But when Bobbie checked her readouts, she seriously told them, "Alright, boys, looks like we're almost in position." 

Controlling the joystick with precision, Bobbie slipped the Razor unnoticed along the hull of the Tucker. Barely tapping the reverse thrusters, she brought them in line with the Tucker's rear airlock. 

"Let's go," she said, immediately stepping out of her seat. 

James and Amos did the same and they all rushed to put on their vac suits. Soon they nodded to each other. She pressed the button to release the main hatch. 

"Preparing for spacewalk," Amos said. 

He opened the hatch and retrieved a thick metal line that had been tied off at one of the Razor's interior anchor points. Bobbie watched him disappear outside into the darkness. She hoped she'd aligned them well enough. The Razor was small and light. The slightest correction could move it through zero G. Amos was pulling at the line, tugging the Razor as close to the airlock as possible. Stealth docking wasn't exactly part of any of their training. All they could figure was to stay as close and quiet as possible. 

"Amos?" James spoke into the comm inside his helmet. 

A second later came a slightly labored response. "Yeah, I got it. Get ready for a little roll." With a grunt of effort, Amos pulled the line. 

James and Bobbie's feet stayed put on the Razor's narrow deck as the boat rolled slightly starboard. Walking to the door, they came face to face with Amos. He had successfully aligned the Razor's hatch to the airlock door. 

"Have you ever manually docked this thing?" James asked Bobbie. 

"How hard could it be?" Bobbie answered. 

In fact, it could be very hard. She knew so. But there simply wasn't another option. James pulled out the biggest tool they'd brought along, a massive mechanical magnet. He and Bobbie took either end and headed out the hatch. 

Dropping lightly onto the Tucker's exterior door, all three of them took hold of the magnet. They would need as much resistance as possible to stay quiet. Each of them gripped the handles firmly. Amos and Bobbie nodded to James. He flipped the switch, engaging the high powered magnet. They all grunted with the effort of holding the magnet away from the heavy metal door as it instantly pulled against them. As slowly as they could the team inched the magnet down, attempting to avoid the metallic crash that would surely give them away. Bobbie's muscles were screaming as she held on. 

Finally, the magnet tapped lightly down in place. Releasing a breath, Bobbie let go of the handle, relaxing her body in zero G as she caught her breath. Amos turned to the next task, using the magnet to unlock the airlock from outside. Thankfully, he was strong enough for the job. Anchoring his mag boots to the ship's hull, he grabbed a handle and leaned back, pulling it with all his might. The magnet inched across the metal door until they heard a distinct click. They all looked around at each other with wide eyes. 

"I can't believe that worked," Bobbie said. 

Disengaging the magnet, James quickly took it back to the Razor while Bobbie and Amos opened the door. James returned with three hand guns and tasers, giving one to each of his companions. Bobbie rolled her eyes slightly at the taser, still disagreeing with their current non violent plan. With the airlock open, it was easy to slip the connector to the Razor's hatch, keeping the vacuum of space out This was it. They made their way inside, guns drawn. 

Bobbie purposefully controlled her breathing. Her senses were on high alert and it would be easy to use too much oxygen as the adrenaline coursed through her. The three took slow steps through a long corridor, walking lightly, attempting to reduce the noise from their mag boots. The doors were staggered on either side of the walkway. Bobbie was in the lead position. She paused outside each door, waiting for Amos to tap her shoulder, indicating her had her back. She swiftly rounded each doorway, immediately checking the corners of the room. So far, so good. 

"Where is everyone?" James spoke quietly into his comm. 

It was a good question. As they made their way farther into the ship, Bobbie began to hear voices echoing off the metal walls. She saw a ladder going down to a lower deck. Pointing to it, Amos and James nodded. They definitely would not go that way. They needed to stay hidden. As they passed by the ladder, the sound of laughter and conversation floated up. The crew must be eating together or socializing somehow. There were at least a dozen voices down there. Lucky for us, Bobbie thought. 

She continued leading her comrades. Coming to a T in the corridor, she paused. Amos posted up on the other side of the hallway. With a look to each other they swiveled together, guns raised, around the corners. Empty. Bobbie released a breath. The team moved left and toward the command deck. 

Soon, they came to it. Hugging the wall with their backs, they waited just outside the open command deck doorway. As slowly and silently as she could, Bobbie slipped her head passed the edge of the doorway, only far enough for one eye to see inside. 

There he was, Nathan Davar, standing casually in the center of the command deck, leaning against the railing there. The others were either sitting or intently looking at a monitor. All distracted. After a quick glance, she shifted back to the wall. Looking at James and Amos, she held up five fingers and mouthed the word, "Five." Then, with the quietest whisper, she told them, "He's in the center." 

Three on five. They would have to be fast, and quiet. Suddenly, Bobbie found herself thankful for the tasers James has insisted on. Each one of them pulled their taser out and secured their sidearm. Using a couple of hand gestures, Bobbie instructed them where to strike once they entered the room. Then she held up three fingers. 

Three. Two. One. 

The team burst through the commander deck doorway. Bobbie immediately went for Davar. His head snapped around toward them with wide eyes. Just as he opened his mouth to shout something, she jammed the taser into his chest, mashing the button. A tiny blue spark flickered from the weapon and Davar went limp, falling to the floor. 

She moved fast and looked over to her companions. The two men at the monitors were already slumped over in their chairs. Amos and James were putting the last two down. James wrapped his arms around one, lowering him to the floor to avoid any noise. 

They glanced at each other, surprised it had been so easy. "Let's go," Bobbie encouraged, "before our luck runs out." 

James and Amos each hooked an arm under Davar and began dragging him down the hallway after Bobbie. They moved much more quickly on the way out. Bobbie tried to keep the clicking of her mag boots to a minimum, but the blood pumping through her was taking over. She was anxious to get off this damned ship. 

They rounded the corner again and were about to pass back by the ladder to the lower deck when a sudden shuffle of movement came from behind them. 

"Hey!" One of the crew from the command deck shouted after him. He moved clumsily, the electroshock still affecting him. He shouted again. "Hey, stop!" 

Suddenly, the light-hearted banter from the lower deck ceased. Shit, Bobbie thought. 

"Move!" She exclaimed to the others. 

She switched to take the rear position, James and Amos rushed Davar back toward the Razor. Taking backward steps, Bobbie roughly grabbed her sidearm, raising it and preparing to fire. They scrambled down the corridor. 

Only a few seconds later, the Tucker's crew began to pour up from the lower deck. One after the other. Never one to fire without threat, Bobbie waited, still moving back. One of them rushed toward her and Bobbie expertly aimed and fired one shot, putting him on the deck. Just then, another shot rang out, not Bobbie's, followed by several more. 

"Shit!" She shouted. "Go!" 

She began returning fire, crouching slightly to make herself a smaller target. Thankfully, they came to a bend in the hall just next to the airlock where the Razor was docked. Ducking around the curve in the wall, Bobbie focused on the advancing crew. She fired a volley and quickly backed away from the return shots. Glancing around again, she saw she had put a couple more down, consequently tripping a few others. There was a small pile up that slowed them down. 

"Bobbie!" James yelled to her. 

She turned toward the airlock and ran. Charging through the hatch of the Razorback, Bobbie surged for the pilot's seat while Amos secured the hatch right behind her. Not bothering with her harness, Bobbie punched the gas, jolting them all. James and Amos flew back against the bulkhead while Davar landed awkwardly, still unconscious. 

Flipping the switch to the comms, Bobbie frantically called out, "Alex!" 

"Yeah, boss," came the quick response. 

"We will be coming in hot," she warned them. 

"Roger that," be said quickly. "Naomi will be at the airlock waiting to assist." 

"Sorry, guys!" She shouted back. 

Grunting, James responded with a strangled, "No problem," as he stayed pinned to the back wall. 

They reached the Roci speedily and Bobbie expertly pulled beside her and docked. She locked the Razor in and jumped out of the seat. The airlock door opened and Naomi rushed in, pulling a high G disoriented Amos off the floor. Bobbie glanced to Davar, who was waking. 

"Holden," she said, pointing to him. 

James moved quickly, grabbing the man just as he tried to strike James. The two began to struggle. Bobbie stalked up to them. Balling her fingers into a first, she cried out, punching Davar as hard as she could in the jaw. His eyes rolled back for a second and he dropped his hands, dazed. 

"Fucker," Bobbie said under her breath. 

They pulled him out and tossed onto the deck of the Rocinante. Naomi shut the airlock door behind them. Bobbie tugged at her vac suit, yanking at the zippers and buttons. She pulled the helmet off, sucking in air. Amos was already doing the same while he got his bearings. Bobbie's blitz into high G didn't sit well with his head. As always, James was the calm one, easily slipping his helmet off. 

They all breathed in the clean air aboard the Roci. Just then, Bobbie noticed that Chrisjen had been there all along. Her eyes were glued to Davar. Bobbie watched as the older woman approached him amidst the chaos. 

Kneeling down to the floor in front of him, Chrisjen observed while Davar shook off Bobbie's punch. The man held a hand at his jaw. He sat up and leaned against the wall, eyes closed against the headache he surely had. Chrisjen looked distinctly satisfied as she watched him. Suddenly, as if disappointed that he wasn't acknowledging her, Chrisjen swiftly moved her hand and slapped him across the face. Bobbie's eyebrows shot up, but it worked. Davar snapped out of his stupor. He came eye to eye with Chrisjen and the surprise on his face was unmistakable. He froze. 

With a dangerous, close-lipped grin and slightly narrowed eyes, Chrisjen calmly asked him, "Do you recognize me?" He hardened his expression, his top lip curling in disdain. "I'll take that as a yes." 

Davar shifted quickly, as if to attack Chrisjen, but Bobbie anticipated the movement. Lightning fast, she had the barrel of her pistol between his eyes before he could get off the floor.

"I don't think so," she said, menacingly. 

Slowly, Chrisjen and Davar both stood as Bobbie kept her weapon trained on him. Stepping into his space, Chrisjen confidently stated in a low and intimidating tone, "Mr. Davar, you've just been thrown into your worst nightmare." He looked at her, clearly angry. Bobbie pressed the barrel into his forehead, stepping between him and Chrisjen, willing herself not to pull the trigger. "Take him to the brig," Chrisjen said. 

James stepped in, roughly grabbing him and directing him down the hall, gun shoved into his back. 

Bobbie lowered her weapon and finally released a breath. Turning quickly, she looked at Chrisjen gazing over her to make sure she was alright even though the logical side of her brain knew the woman was fine. Her protective instinct was still on alert. 

"I'm fine," Chrisjen told her. Bobbie enhaled, glad the ordeal was over. 

Just then, the ship's comms came on to Alex's tense voice. "Hey guys, we gotta situation up here." 

The crew hastily gathered on the command deck, where Alex was still in the cockpit. Naomi went to her screens. 

"Shit," she muttered. "They've fired on us." Bobbie felt an instant panic. "Three minutes until impact." 

"Counter measures?" James asked. 

"Still down," she replied. 

He frantically said, "Options, people." 

"Can we deflect their missile?" Naomi asked. "Draw it away?" 

"What about the escape pod," Amos suggested. 

Alex shouted down. "The escape pod has to be manned, there's no autopilot. But it's heat signature could be enough to attract the missile. We'd have to power down the Roci though so the missile would see the pod." 

"We can't do that," Naomi said. "It would be a suicide mission."

James nodded in agreement. "Other options."

Bobbie's eyes were pinned on the screen while the missile bore down on them. "Alex, can you move us away?" She shouted up to him. 

"Not fast enough," came the answer. "She's tough to maneuver with the Razor attached. 

"What if we disengage the Razor," Naomi called. 

As the crew hurriedly talked through their dwindling options, it became clear to Bobbie that there was no way out. Her heart sank at the inevitable conclusion that in less than two minutes, their beloved Rocinante would be torn to pieces, along with them. Only one thing mattered now. 

She turned to seek out deep chestnut eyes, but no one was there. "Chris?" Bobbie glanced around, searching. "Chrisjen?" She called, a little louder. Terror seized her and she fought the terrible idea that came to her mind. Rushing over to look up to the cockpit, then down to engineering, she shouted desperately. "Chrisjen!" 

Suddenly, the crew stopped their chattering and looked around as well. "Where did she go?" Amos voiced the question they were all thinking. 

Bobbie couldn't stop the tears that sprang to her eyes. "No, no, no," she muttered. She was about to sprint to the other side of the ship, knowing exactly where her lover had gone when the monitor on the wall came to life. 

Chrisjen's face appeared, firm and focused. It was just as Bobbie thought. She watched as Chrisjen pulled a helmet on, securing it to her vac suit. She was in the escape pod. 

"Alex," Chrisjen spoke into the comms. "Prepare to power down the Rocinante and go dark." 

Breathing hard, Bobbie came to the monitor, pressing her hand into the wall next to it. "Chris, get your ass back here right now." 

"You know I can't do that," she said. 

"This isn't the way," Bobbie said through her gathering tears. 

"It's the only thing you idiots seemed to be able to come up with," she said, holding to her usual sarcastic humor. 

"One minute," Alex shouted. 

Chrisjen tried to sound sure when she said, "I'll eject at the last second. The blast will throw me, so you better be ready to come fucking get me." 

They all knew the odds of such a plan working were astronomically low. Bobbie could only shake her head, the tightness in her throat preventing her from speaking. 

"Yes, ma'am," James said, barely audible. 

"Holden," Chrisjen said to him. He looked up to catch her eye on the screen. The sadness on her face was palpable among them all. "Take care of my Martian." 

Before anyone could answer, the monitor went black. Every light on the command deck went out. The usual whirring sounds of the Roci's engines died as Alex cut every watt of power. They were left in the red glow of emergency lights and silence. The only sound in the entire ship was Bobbie's uneven breathing as tears ran down her face. 

"Ten," Alex's voice broke the quiet. "Nine, eight…" 

The crew began to find spaces to brace themselves. Bobbie's body felt like it was shutting down. Her muscles gave out and she sank to the deck, suddenly dizzy. This couldn't be happening. 

"Five, four…" 

Chrisjen. 

"Two. One." 

Abruptly, they were all thrown across the command deck as the missile collided with the escape pod, exploding too near the ship. The loud and echoing bang could be heard through the thick metal outer and inner hull. The Roci shook violently and the sound of clanging parts could be heard as tools fell and unsecured gear was tossed about. Bobbie was thrown against the wall, hard. 

Then everything went quiet.


	5. Nine Lives

"Bobbie!" 

It sounded like a dream, far away and echoey. 

"Bobbie!" 

She recognized the voice. It was a man, someone she knew. The ringing in her head made it difficult to hear clearly. Her shoulder was moving… no, someone was moving her shoulder… shaking her. 

"Bobbie, you gotta wake up." 

Slowly opening her eyes, Bobbie's vision was met with red, blinking lights. Though it was dim, she squinted against it. 

"Hey, can you hear me?" 

Turning her head, she saw Amos hunched over her. Her hand flew to her temple as her brain registered a sharp pain. When her fingers came away bloody, the fog lifted from her memory. 

Davar. The missile... she'd been thrown into the wall. 

Chrisjen. 

Shutting her eyes, Bobbie tried to recall. She thought she remembered what had happened to Chrisjen, but surely her memory wasn't working correctly. She must've hit her head pretty hard because she could swear that Chrisjen had gone into the escape pod for some reason. 

It all came flooding back, hitting Bobbie in the gut, hard. She couldn't breath. Looking at Amos, she grabbed his arm, pulling at a fistful of his sleeve, desperate for him to tell her she wasn't remembering right. Hot tears stung her eyes, but didn't spill over. She'd already been crying. A sob escaped. 

"I know," Amos said. "I'm sorry." 

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to her feet. Her legs felt useless and her entire body was heavy. She was able to focus enough to see the crew scrambling about. Amos quickly left her side and followed the ladder down to the engine room. Bobbie glanced around, surveying the damage. Other than a few sparks coming from a couple electrical panels, the command deck looked intact. Remarkable. They should've been blown to bits. 

"Alright, hold on!" She heard Naomi call. 

Bobbie watched as Naomi pulled some loose wires. One final burst of sparks and the damaged panels went dark. 

"Now?" Alex asked from the cockpit. 

"Yeah, try it now."

A moment later, the Roci's primary power was engaged. The lights on the command deck lit up. Naomi quickly checked the main center monitor. 

"Navigation, life support," she said, "engines, we've got everything." 

Finding her footing, Bobbie quickly joined her. "What about the escape pod?" Her breaths were short and anxious. 

With a skeptical look, Naomi checked the systems. She shook her slowly, giving Bobbie a downcast look. "I'm sorry," she said, sadly. "It's gone." 

Suddenly, James appeared from the lower deck. "Alex!" 

"Yeah, boss?"

"They're gonna see us power back up!" He shouted angrily, "Fire on those bastards!" 

"With pleasure." A second later, Alex confirmed, "Bombs away. That's our last missile." 

James, Naomi, and Bobbie gathered around the screen, watching the missile's trajectory as it headed for the Tucker. Bobbie felt a fury in her belly. She gritted her teeth, willing the missile to go faster. After what seemed like an eternity, they watched the tiny blip that was the enemy ship blink and then disappear. Bobbie exhaled, satisfied. 

"Confirm hit," Alex said. "They're gone." 

"Good," James said under his breath. 

Bobbie found her rage very much unquenched and she knew exactly where to direct it. She began to walk away from the others and toward the brig when James asked, "Where are you going?" 

"To kill that son of a bitch, Davar," she answered, determined. 

Just then, Alex called down, "Uh, hey guys, you're not gonna believe this." 

Bobbie stopped in her tracks and turned back. 

"What?" James shouted. 

Surprise evident in his voice, Alex said, "I've got life signs." 

Bobbie took quick steps back. "What do you mean?" 

"It's…" he trailed off like he didn't know what to say. "It's her." He unbuckled and rushed down to them. Going to the monitor, he pulled up the bio readouts from their one active vac suit - Chrisjen's. 

Bobbie sucked in a breath. It was faint, but the screen sounded the distinct and slow beep, beep, beep of a heartbeat, Chrisjen's heartbeat. Noticing the blinking red areas on the monitor, Bobbie realized that her suit was highly damaged. 

She shot around to the others. "We have to go get her." It wasn't a question. 

Nodding quickly, the others all began to move to the staging area where the other vac suits would be ready for them. 

"Amos!" James shouted down to engineering. "We need you, now!" 

Only a few seconds later, he was with them. "What's going on?"

"Avasarala's alive," he answered as they walked hurriedly.

Amos looked at Bobbie, shocked. She only gave a swift nod. 

Soon, Bobbie, James, Amos, and Naomi were all in vac suits. Alex stayed inside to pilot. They waited in the airlock while Alex maneuvered them to Chrisjen's position. It took a while. In the nothingness of space, with no gravity to pull her, she was still moving away from them. She must have been thrown far, it was taking forever. Bobbie tried to prepare herself for any condition the woman might be in. 

"I'll guide you from here," Alex told them over the comm. "Be careful. While you're out there, the Roci will still be moving toward her." 

James released the airlock door and they slowly floated outside. Bobbie tried to contain her fear and anxiety. A spacewalk was no time for emotion. Move quickly, get her, bring her inside, Bobbie told herself. Move quickly, get her, bring her inside.

"Alright," Alex said. "You're gonna have to go to the starboard side. 

They took labored steps as they made their way across the Rocinante's belly and around the curve of the ship, fighting the inertia as they went. Bobbie craned her neck, trying to see round the slope of the ship's hull. Her breathing increased when she caught sight of a tiny white dot out in space. 

"Alex," James said. "We're not close enough. You need to move farther starboard."

Bobbie resisted the urge to simply jump and let space carry her out to Chrisjen. The need to get to her was overwhelming. A lump was stuck in her throat, making it difficult to breath, and the anxiety in her stomach made it even harder to stay put. They all felt the small jolt of Alex moving the Roci closer. 

The white dot became bigger and soon Bobbie could make out a body, arms and legs lifeless and still. 

"Chrisjen?" Bobbie spoke into the comms. When no answer came, she pressed, "Chrisjen, can you hear me?"

After a moment, James told her, "Her comms are probably busted." 

Finally they were close enough. Amos took the rope they'd brought and secured it to Bobbie's suit. James did the same with Naomi. 

Naomi looked to her Martian friend. "You need to be ready for whatever we find." 

Clenching her jaw and taking a deep breath, Bobbie nodded. Together she and Naomi bent their knees, disengaged their mag boots, and jumped from the Roci toward Chrisjen. Bobbie's gaze was fixed as they drew closer and closer. Soon she could make out the patch on the shoulder of the vac suit depicting the Roci's logo. 

"Chrisjen," she said quietly. "Please." 

A second later, Bobbie spread her arms wide as her body collided roughly with Chrisjen's. She instantly wrapped her arms and legs around her holding on as tightly as she could lest they get separated. Half a minute later, Naomi was holding onto the both of them. 

"Pull us in," Naomi said to James and Amos. 

Bobbie felt the tug of the rope where it was fastened to her suit. 

"Help me," she said to Naomi. 

They turned Chrisjen over to see her face. Bobbie winced when she was the face shield covered in blood. She could barely make out Chrisjen's face behind it. 

Voice low with controlled worry, Bobbie asked, "Alex, how are her life signs?" 

His voice came shortly over the comm. "Weak, but steady." 

Nodding slightly, Bobbie let her helmet fall against Chrisjen's. Though she didn't know the extent of her injuries, Bobbie allowed the slightest glimmer of hope to enter her mind. 

They made it back to the boys quickly. They'd put all their might into pulling. All four of them took hold of Chrisjen, leading her back around the outer hull of the ship and toward the airlock. The whole team moved with purpose and Bobbie was suddenly so grateful for them. In all her time with the Martian Marine Corp, she'd never been with a crew that cared for each other like this crew. 

By the time they reached the door, they were all out of breath. James slammed his hand on the large button to open the airlock. When the doors slid apart, they rushed inside. Alex was on the other side. The second the lock sealed, he opened the other side into the Rocinante. The fifty percent gravity they kept aboard ship hit them. Lifting Chrisjen easily, they pulled her onto the Roci deck. 

Bobbie tore her helmet off, then her gloves. Alex came over and assisted with stripping the vac suit off in record time. Everyone else followed as quickly as they could. Bobbie knelt down beside Chrisjen, still unable to get a good look at her face through the blood splattered visor. Gingerly sliding the release on the helmet, Bobbie began to gently slip it off. 

"Amos," she said quietly, "will you support her head." 

He swiftly reached steady hands to the back of Chrisjen's neck, ready to hold her head up when the helmet came off. Bobbie pulled it off and Chrisjen's head limply fell into Amos's waiting hands. She tossed the helmet aside and replaced his hands with her own, hunching over the woman, eyes darting all over her. There was a nasty gash at her eyebrow. Her bottom lip was busted and a deep bruise was forming along her cheekbone. 

While Bobbie's eyes were glued to Chrisjen, the crew worked to remove the gloves, then the rest of the suit. 

"Shit," Amos muttered. They all turned in his direction. He was at Chrisjen's left side. He pointed. You couldn't miss it. Burns. Bad ones. It looked as if the explosion had almost melted the vac suit onto the skin at Chrisjen's side and hip. Her clothing was completely burned away there and the wounds were oozing badly. 

"We need to get her to the med bay," James stated. 

Bobbie nodded frantically. Scooping the smaller woman up as gently as she could, she lunged off the floor and down the corridor. She knew burns were the one of the worst injuries a body could sustain. They were also the most time sensitive when it came to treatment… and the most painful. 

Amos rushed ahead of her and slammed his hand into the button to open the medical bay doors. Bobbie slid past him. She set Chrisjen on the bed and moved away. Naomi was best at this. The Belter knew so, as she quickly came alongside the bed, taking Chrisjen's arm and putting it into the med sleeve. Before even waiting for the readouts, she began gathering drugs and tools. 

Bobbie couldn't take her eyes off Chrisjen. Her usual dark skin was pale. If they hadn't heard her heartbeat on the monitor, Bobbie would've thought she was already gone. She gripped Chrisjen's lifeless hand tightly and pressed her lips against cold knuckles. Leaning over her, she moved closer, needing the proximity. 

"You're gonna be fine," she whispered, barely audible. 

The others worked together to take care of the older woman. Naomi had injected her with a cocktail, Amos was already working with a dermal regenerator on the worst of the burns. It would be painstaking to heal it, but they wouldn't stop until Chrisjen was out of danger. James had connected a cerebral monitor at her forehead and was checking for traumatic brain injuries. 

"Looks like just cuts and bruises to her head," he reported. "No brain bleeding, no swelling." 

Bobbie breathed out, relieved. Alex brought her a chair, encouraging her to sit with a hand at her shoulder. She obeyed, slumping onto the chair, not letting go of the hand in hers. 

"No broken bones," Naomi said, after finishing a scan with a portable x-ray. "Unbelievable, considering what she must've gone through." Coming next to Amos, she took up another regenerator. "Let me help you." He scooted over and they worked together to clean and close up the burns. 

As minutes passed, the rest of the crew faded from Bobbie's mind. She knew they were there, working, but the only thing her brain seemed able to register was Chrisjen's presence. She couldn't take her eyes off the other woman, waiting expectantly for her eyes to open. 

Surely she would awaken any moment. After all, Chrisjen Avasarala was invincible. She'd survived too many things to lose now. Bobbie exhaled, allowing her shoulders to relax. She settled in to wait. Surely she would awaken any moment. 

*******************

Hours passed as Bobbie waited next to the medical bed. The others had finished working on Chrisjen's wounds, covering them with gauze and wrapping her torso in medical dressing. They seemed optimistic that she would recover fully. Still, Bobbie knew she wouldn't be able to rest until Chrisjen opened her eyes. 

She and Naomi had peeled the rest of Chrisjen's clothes off. They were torn and bloody and showed the scope of her injuries. There were cuts and gashes on her back where the explosion had hit her, smashing her oxygen tanks into her body. At some point, she must have hit her face on the front of her helmet, causing the bloody lip and split eyebrow, both of which were healing quickly thanks to the dermal glue. Now, Chrisjen was laying in loose fitting, thin scrubs. 

Bobbie checked and rechecked the wounds. Many of them would improve quickly with the drugs Naomi was giving her. The burns would take longer without a regen pod, not to mention the terrible scarring she could have. 

After pacing the room for several minutes, Bobbie came to sit back down. She gently took Chrisjen's hand for the dozenth time. Stroking her thumb across it, she noticed how soft the skin was there, such a contrast to the rest of her broken body. Instinctively, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the back of Chrisjen's hand, lingering there. Scooting the chair closer to the bed, Bobbie held Chrisjen's hand against her cheek. The warmth in the woman's fingers was encouraging. 

Gaze fixed to her face, Bobbie willed her to wake. She needed to see those bright, brown eyes. Reaching her free hand to Chrisjen's cheek, she whispered, "Wake up, my Earther." She kissed her hand again. 

Bobbie barely noticed the sound of the door opening and closing. She didn't bother to turn and see who it was. She didn't care. Her eyes remained on her lover's face. There was the sound of someone pulling up a chair next to her.

"How's she doin'?" Alex asked next to her. "It's been almost a day." 

Breathing out, Bobbie finally acknowledged him, sitting back in her seat. 

She looked at him. "Same," she answered quietly. "But she's healing quickly, mostly." 

"That's good." They were both silent for a moment, then Alex said, "I know she means a lot to you-" 

"She means everything to me," Bobbie snapped, meeting his eyes, needing him to understand. He nodded slowly, expression sympathetic.

Bobbie exhaled. "I'm sorry," she told him. She reached over to take the small hand again. "You know, everyone thinks she's a hard ass." Bobbie gave a one-sided quirk of her lips. "But she's not." She glanced back at Alex. "She's the kindest, most giving person I've ever known. All she wants is to do the right thing and keep everyone safe." 

"No one can keep everyone safe," he said. 

With a tiny smile, Bobbie replied, "Don't tell her that." 

Smiling encouragingly, Alex said, "I've got a plate for you. You need to eat." 

Shaking her head, she told him, "I don't think I can." 

Standing, he nodded. "It'll be ready when you are." 

Bobbie appreciated his friendship, had since they first met. Two Martians with such different paths, still united by a common culture. "Thanks, fly boy." 

She looked back at Chrisjen and heard the door open and close again. 

More hours later, her eyes lids were finally getting heavy. All the adrenaline that had been pushing her had faded. She was hungry and tired, her own aches and pains from the blast beginning to nag at her. Bobbie reached up to rub her neck, stiff from when she'd been thrown against the wall. Moving her fingers to her temple, she carefully touched the gash that had been closed up. There was the tender pain of bruising. She couldn't really complain, not while in the same room with someone who had ejected into open space with nothing but a vac suit and had simultaneously been blown up by a missile. 

Just then, the sound of a sharp inhale caught her ears. Her gaze shot to Chrisjen, eyes wide, staring. With another, more steady deep breath, she began to stir. 

Shooting out of her chair, Bobbie took her hand once again. She leaned in close, her palm on Chrisjen's head, grazing her thumb over her forehead.

"Chrisjen?" She whispered, sounding slightly desperate. She saw the woman's brow knit together. "Chrisjen, wake up." There was a squeeze on her hand and she knew Chrisjen had heard her. Breathing out through a wide smile, Bobbie kissed her hand. "Open your eyes, please." 

With a soft groan, Chrisjen stirred again, tensing. Slowly, very slowly, her eyes blinked open. She looked around, almost afraid, until her gaze landed on Bobbie. She breathed out softly and relaxed. 

They stared at each other, neither daring to look away. Bobbie didn't try to hide the emotion on her face, allowing a single tear to escape her eyelid and roll down her cheek. She held Chrisjen's look, hardly believing she was awake and afraid that if she so much as blinked, the woman would pass out again. 

Finally, Chrisjen spoke, her voice gravely. "Did I live?" 

Laughing lightly through her feelings, Bobbie answered, "Yes," playfully adding, "you crazy old lady." Gently combing her fingers into Chrisjen's hair, she told her, "You saved us all." 

Chrisjen reached for her, immediately wincing in pain. She let out a strangled cry from her dry throat. 

"No, no, no," Bobbie said gently. "Try not to move." 

Coughing, Chrisjen replied, "Everything hurts." 

"Well," Bobbie raised her eyebrows, "you did just get blown up by a missile." 

Chrisjen shut her eyes tight against the hurt. Bobbie anxiously looked around for something to help. Her eyes landed on the injection stick near the bed. Naomi had told her to give the meds to Chrisjen when she woke up. Moving hastily around the room, she snatched it up. 

"This'll help," she said, pushing the needle into her shoulder and tapping the bottom on top.

A second later, the older woman breathed out, visibly relaxing. Bobbie was thankful for whatever Naomi put in the cocktail. 

"Water," Chrisjen whispered.

Bobbie chided herself for not already thinking of it. She rushed to the sink and poured a cup of water. Moving back to the bed, she slipped a hand under Chrisjen's head to tilt her up and held the cup to her lips. 

"Slowly," she instructed. 

Chrisjen took a small sip, then another, then several more until it was too fast and she coughed again. Bobbie let her head lay back and set the cup down. Reaching out again, Chrisjen's face softened as she watched Bobbie. Shifting closer, Bobbie met her hand and revelled in the familiar feeling of those fingers on her hair and that thumb stroking her cheekbone. 

As they stared, Bobbie felt a wave of relief washing over her. She knew her eyes betrayed her feelings when her companion's expression became empathetic. Then Chrisjen pulled at her neck and Bobbie allowed her forehead to drop to the woman's chest. She would've cried, but she had no more tears. Chrisjen seemed to understand and she simply held Bobbie as best she could, which is to say she laid her hands gently on her shoulders. Still, Bobbie soaked in the contact. 

She softly asked, "What were you thinking?" 

The answer came confidently. "That I adore you all, and if I can keep you safe, that is always the choice I will make." 

Bobbie smiled against the fabric of her scrubs. It was such a Chrisjen answer. Lifting her head, she lightly pressed her lips to her jaw line, then her cheek. 

"First Luna, now this," Bobbie said. She slowly shook her head. "I can't do this again, Chris." 

She slipped out of Chrisjen's light grip and slumped into her chair. Her face dropped into her hands as the full breadth of everything they'd experienced since the Ring appeared settled on her. Bobbie remembered being so adamant that she and Chrisjen stay together, that as long as they were together, Bobbie could keep her safe. But that wasn't true. The universe clearly had other plans for this magnificent woman, it had proven that by keeping her alive while simultaneously trying to kill her. Surely Chrisjen's luck would run out soon and the thought was terrifying. 

"I'm sorry." 

It was so quiet, Bobbie barely heard it. She glanced up to see a solemn expression. A pang of guilt stung her. Chrisjen had been willing to sacrifice herself for all of them and here Bobbie was, making her feel bad for it. 

She bowed her head, upset with herself. Meeting her eyes, Bobbie told her, "No, I'm sorry. I'm being selfish." 

"It's not selfish to want the people you love to live," Chrisjen assured her. 

Bobbie wondered if she would ever have an emotional IQ like Chrisjen's. She always knew what to say. As the silence began to stretch out between them, Bobbie felt the need to change the subject. She couldn't talk about this anymore. She told her the Rocinante's current objective. "The Roci sustained a lot of damage in the blast. We need to resupply, make repairs, and we don't have a lot of what we need." 

"Where are we going?" Chrisjen asked, tracking with her. 

"Tycho Station," she answered. "Fred Johnson has agreed to allow us to dock and make repairs. We can stay as long as necessary." She added, "We're hoping they'll let us use a regeneration pod. It would go a long way toward healing your body." 

Chrisjen looked away. The mention of Johnson seemed to throw her. "Does he know I'm with you?" 

"Yes," Bobbie said. "I believe when Naomi mentioned it was when he said something about helping us in any way he can." 

Slipping her eyes closed, Chrisjen's lips lifted. "How long until we get there?" 

"We're moving slow, thrusters only," Bobbie told her. "It'll take a few days." 

Exhaling in frustration, the other woman said firmly, "We don't have a few more days to spare." 

"We don't have a choice. We need the Roci in good shape." Chrisjen winced, inhaling sharply. She had tensed too much, Bobbie saw. "Hey." She took the woman's hand again, attempting to soothe her. "Relax. You need to rest." 

"I would rest better in a real bed," she shot back. 

"Unfortunately, those are in short supply in space," Bobbie deadpanned. 

Lips quirking at the joke, Chrisjen drawled, "I fucking hate space." 

Bobbie grinned. "I know." She stood again. "Let me call Naomi. If she gives the all clear, we'll take you back to our bunk." 

*******************

A half an hour later, Bobbie was helping Chrisjen get settled in their tiny bed. Naomi had been impressed with the progress of her healing in only a day and a half. Despite the marvels the dermal regenerators were capable of, a full body pod is what Chrisjen really needed to heal best. Naomi had also warned the older woman that she would need a regen treatment every day, which would be painful. Of course, Chrisjen had lifted her chin confidently at that. She'd sent them on their way with a few more injection sticks for the pain. 

Now, Bobbie was gently pulling a blanket over an exhausted Earther. It had taken all of Chrisjen's energy just to make it to the room, though she had yet to complain. She shifted under the blanket. The burns made it impossible to find a comfortable position. Bobbie turned the lights down and crouched on the floor next to the bunk.

"Do you want me to redo the dressings?" Bobbie asked. "Maybe that'll help."

"Naomi just did that before we left." Chrisjen's tone was a mix of irritated and tired.

Bobbie's heart went out to her. "Is the pain bad?"

Chrisjen breathed, trying to relax. "Like she said, it could be worse." 

Though the burns covered a large part of her body, they were only deep in a few small spots. "It's remarkable," Bobbie said. Her heart wrenched for the hundredth time in the last thirty-six hours. "You shouldn't be here." Her voice cracked. "And you're fine, you know. I mean, you're not fine," Bobbie began to ramble, "obviously, you're hurt, but you're alive. The escape pod was obliterated, the Roci is barely functioning, but you…" her voice faded with disbelief. "You're here, with nothing but a few burns and bruises and cuts." 

Seeming to settle, Chrisjen looked at her. Her face grew sad and tears welled her in her eyes. "All I could see was your face," she spoke softly. 

Confused and lips parting at the sudden sentiment from the other woman, Bobbie asked, "What?" 

"In the escape pod," Chrisjen replied. Bobbie suddenly realized that in the time since she woke up, Chrisjen had yet to offer any of her experience. "All I could see was your face," she repeated. She slid her hand across the sheets toward Bobbie and the Martian quickly took it. "When I turned the camera off, it was as if that image of you, looking so vulnerable, was fixed in my brain. I remember, I fumbled around trying to find the eject switch." She gave a small shake of her head against the pillow. "I couldn't see anything else. I didn't want to leave you."

Understanding how terrified she must have been, Bobbie could only respond, "I'm so sorry." 

"Bobbie, I know I'm old," Chrisjen said, "and with my track record, I have no idea how long I'm going to live, but I want to be with you for as long as I can, as long as you'll have me." 

Breathing out, her soul burning for this woman more than ever, Bobbie gave her a soft smile. "Listen to me," she gripped Chrisjen's hand to her chest and came to her knees, leaning over the small bed to press a kiss to her forehead. She pulled back with a sincere expression. "When you die, it will be in my arms, under Earth's warm sun. Not out there in the cold darkness. Do you understand?" 

With a close lipped and perfect smile, Chrisjen only nodded in reply. Her eyelids were getting heavy. "My beautiful Martian." Pulling on Bobbie's hand, she said, "Come lay down with me." 

Bobbie obeyed without pause, coming onto the bed beside Chrisjen, doing her best not to disturb her injuries. She propped herself on an elbow. With everything she'd been through, Bobbie couldn't believe how flawless Chrisjen still looked to her. She reached to run her fingertip from Chrisjen's temple to her chin, tracing the edge of her face. Bobbie took her in, her constantly kind eyes, the tone of her skin, and shape of her mouth. Unable to hold back, she brought her lips to Chrisjen's. Hoping not to hurt the cut on her lip, Bobbie was so gentle. 

She was elated when Chrisjen returned the kiss. A small, content hum came from Bobbie's throat as she slowly pulled their lips apart. She watched as Chrisjen's lids remained closed. She must be so tired, Bobbie thought, and she couldn't imagine anyone in the Sol needing rest the way her companion did right now. She continued to graze her fingers over the woman, at her cheek, her neck, her shoulder, slowly down her arm and back up. 

The minutes drew out and Bobbie's mind wandered back to the first time she and Chrisjen had been in bed together. This woman was made of fire and Bobbie would forever remember the passion and care of their first time. Peppering kisses over Chrisjen's face and neck, Bobbie nestled in as close to her and she could and said to her the same words she had said that night. 

"Sleep," she told her. "I've got you." 

The small body next to her relaxed deeper and deeper into the shallow mattress of their bunk until her lover was asleep. Bobbie quickly succumbed to her own exhaustion. Eyes falling closed, she drifted off.


	6. Taking Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew arrives on Tycho, attempting to gain allies. Chrisjen and Bobbie get some time alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looonnnggg chapter. Lots of events packed in here. Some badass Chrisjen moments and some soft moments as well. The entire chap is Chrisjen's POV, which was a tough change, but I wanted to challenge myself. Hopefully some of my verbage isn't too repetitive in such a long chapter. Hope you enjoy!

The medical bay aboard the Rocinante was state of the art. It had all the bells and whistles afforded every other Corvette class gunship. There were ergonomic beds with attached med sleeves, every tool a medical officer could need to quickly heal wounds in the heat of battle, medicine generators, and access to a complete virtual library of a multitude of instructional medical videos. 

Such a library had become quite handy on the ship, considering they didn't have a medical officer and had no idea how to do half the things needed to be done. Naomi had a lot of medical experience from an internship program in the Belt. Such internships were common for Belters as the need for trained medical personnel was essential in such hazardous conditions. Amos had learned to patch bullet wounds, mostly from practicing on himself. James had become proficient with broken bones. However, none of them had much experience with burns. 

Naomi had looked at every video tutorial she could about how to use the dermal regenerator to heal them on the outside and which drugs to use to help the process from the inside. Chrisjen knew the young Belter was doing her very best and, truth be told, she had no idea what a normal dermal treatment for a burn would feel like. All she knew is that this one was incredibly painful. 

Chrisjen inhaled sharply at the piercing irritation as Naomi worked on a particular spot. She'd been working for about twenty minutes, every one of them agonizing. It was her third treatment and, despite that they were working, they were difficult to get through. Sweat was beading all over Chrisjen's body, a reaction to the discomfort. She tried her best to stay relaxed, knowing that outward signs of pain would only make Naomi hesitant, further drawing out the process. The regenerator only affected a millimeter of space at a time and each jab felt like a thousand needles, all stabbing her together at one tiny point. She felt it through every nerve on the entire left side of her body. 

It didn't help that much of her body was feeling the effects of the missile. Her back ached incessantly and her hips hurt. Her ribs felt bruised, likely because they were still healing from the ordeal on Luna. One of her legs had been awkwardly bent during the explosion and the ligaments in the knee gave her a sharp pain when she walked. 

Gritting her teeth as Naomi moved to a new spot, it was finally too much. Chrisjen let out a short cry of pain. Though she was determined to keep going, it was Bobbie who couldn't take it anymore. 

"That's it," Bobbie said firmly from the opposite side of her. "She needs a break." 

Breathing hard, Chrisjen responded with a labored, "I'm fine." 

"No, you're not," Bobbie countered to her, a little more softly.

On the other side of her, Naomi gently asked, "Won't you please just take some pain meds?" 

"No," the Earther insisted. "I don't like the effect." 

Naomi shot back, sarcastic, "You mean how they make it stop hurting?"

Narrowing her eyes at the Belter, Chrisjen replied, "I mean how they make me feel foggy." She adjusted in the chair. "I need to be clear headed for my discussion with our guest." She gave Naomi a nod. "Break is over. Finish it." 

As the treatment resumed, Chrisjen closed her eyes tight, regretting her decision to continue. She attempted to shift her focus to something else. Davar. They were interrogating him shortly. She tried to focus on the questions she wanted to ask him. 

Another slip of the dermal regenerator and Chrisjen sucked in another pained breath. She felt Bobbie's hand grip hers tightly and she held on, returning the firm hold, knowing she could squeeze as hard as possible and not hurt the strong Martian. Just a few more minutes, Chrisjen told herself. 

********************

A short time later, the crew was outside the interrogation room that had been fashioned from a storage closet. They'd even installed a one way window so everyone would be privy to whatever happened inside the room. 

Davar was sitting inside. There was no table. There wasn't anything, actually, other than the chair the man sat in and the cuffs holding his hands together behind the chair, and another chair. He seemed completely at ease and it annoyed them all. He glanced slowly around the room, leaning back in the chair. Chrisjen eyed him and felt a righteous anger simmering just below the surface. It was one reason she had asked to do her dermal treatment immediately before the interrogation, and why she didn't want the pain meds. She wanted the adrenaline the pain would bring. 

James spoke up as they all stared through the one way glass. "So who's going in there?" 

"I am," Chrisjen answered confidently. 

"What do you hope to learn?" Naomi asked. 

Turning to look at the young woman, Chrisjen replied easily, "Exactly where Marco is." 

"And you think you can get that from him?" Naomi seemed skeptical, one eyebrow raised.

This time when she answered, Chrisjen turned her entire body to face Naomi, hands at her hips. "Why do you always insist on questioning me? What do I have to fucking do to prove myself to you?" The frustration was evident in her tone. 

Naomi backed off with an exhale. "I'm just saying," she replied, lowering her defenses, "If he's as close to Marco as we think, he's probably been trained for this." Then she added, "And with all the uproar our messages from Archangel have been causing around the Belt, Marco's cronies might be on even higher alert."

Pausing for a moment, Chrisjen simply said, "We'll see." She looked at Bobbie. "You're with me in there." Then she glanced at the duty belt around Amos's waist, holding a handgun he'd insisted they needed for the interrogation. "Bring that," she told Bobbie, pointing at the belt.

He hesitantly took it off and passed it to Bobbie, who promptly buckled it around her hips. Chrisjen tenderly pressed her fingers into her left side, testing the burn wounds through the tank top she wore under her flight suit. They were definitely getting better. Better enough to be able to zip her flight suit up again without the fabric rub causing too much pain. She tugged at her suit, slipping her arms into the long sleeves and slowly pulling it over her shoulders. So far, so good. Carefully zipping it up, Chrisjen was relieved that the thick material wasn't too bothersome. She always found that it helped to look official while threatening someone and the Rocinante flight suits were the closest things they had to uniforms. 

"Whatever happens in there," Chrisjen told the crew, "don't stop me." She knew it sounded cryptic, and in all honesty, she had no idea what she was going to say or do. But she wasn't leaving that room without something useful.

When James, Naomi, and Alex shifted uncomfortably at the statement, Chrisjen looked to Amos. She gave him the tiniest nod, which he returned. She knew he would keep the others from interfering. Morals be damned, an entire planet was on the line. 

Breathing out and steeling herself, Chrisjen focused. Her expression slowly morphed from serious to downright cold, a shift she'd had years to perfect, whether the emotion followed or not. Opening the door, she and Bobbie walked inside. 

They entered slowly. Chrisjen took her time with purposefully languid steps across the room. Bobbie stayed near the door and casually leaned her shoulder against the wall, crossing her arms and appearing bored. Chrisjen was grateful for the young woman's ability to follow her play. She glanced to Davar, stuffing down the boiling anger his proximity brought. 

Tone even, she said to him, "I hope you're getting along okay aboard the Rocinante, Mr. Davar." His only response was to lift his chin defiantly. Chrisjen looked at Bobbie, who rolled her eyes. She tried something less cordial. "We tend to keep a bit of gravity turned on. I understand that it can be uncomfortable for Belters who aren't accustomed to it." 

At that, he shifted in his chair, looking annoyed. Chrisjen let the silence play out, not the least bit uncomfortable with it. Bobbie evidently wasn't quite as willing to take their time. 

"When do I get to beat the shit out of him?" She asked the question firmly, eyes on the man. Chrisjen couldn't tell if it was part of the game or if she was serious. She decided to go with it being part of the game. 

She picked up the other chair in the small room that was against the opposite wall and brought it closer to him. The effort to lift it rubbed her clothing against the burns at her side and she fought to control her reaction to the extreme irritation. Setting the chair down, she sat near him. 

Staring with a cold, close lipped smile, she said, "I think you know what we want. We know all about Marco's plan for Earth." Davar blinked slowly and pursed his lips. Ah ha, Chrisjen thought. "We also know that you are one of his lieutenants and, unfortunately, it looks like you won't be able to follow through with your part in it." 

Finally, he took a sideways glance at her, though only for a second. "I'm replaceable," he said, in a thick Belter accent. "You can't stop what's happening." 

"We've blown your ship, and a dozen others, to bits," she informed him. "Your crew is floating, dead in the expanse. Congratulations, captain." 

Davar reacted, attempting to lunge at her from his seat. His cuffs held him back and Bobbie's rough hand shoving at his shoulders knocked him back into his chair. Chrisjen didn't flinch. She and Davar stared at each other. Chrisjen hoped he didn't see the drop of sweat forming at her temple as the warmth from her flight suit further irritated her injuries. 

He growled at her, "Fuck you." 

"Tell me where Marco is," she insisted calmly. When he didn't answer, she requested again, "Tell me." 

Another moment of silence and, out of nowhere, Bobbie inserted herself into the conversation by solidly punching Davar in the jaw. It happened so fast, Chrisjen jumped slightly with surprise. Davar grunted, suddenly breathing hard with the rush of adrenaline. He spit blood on the floor and sat back up straight, squaring his shoulders. Chrisjen looked at Bobbie, annoyed. 

"Sorry," she said, sarcastically, shaking her hand out. "I slipped." 

Davar gave a dry chuckle. "Is this how it's going to go? Good cop, bad cop?" He gave Chrisjen a hard look. "I'm not telling you where Marco is." 

Narrowing her eyes, Chrisjen considered the situation. He seemed determined to ward off their attempts. They didn't have a lot of time to waste getting him to talk, and he was clearly onto their game. Fine, she thought, I'll throw him something he doesn't see coming. 

Promptly rising from her chair, Chrisjen took steps toward Bobbie. She yanked the pistol from the holster at the Martian's hip. Pulling back the slide with a metallic click, she moved closer to Davar. Seeing the lack of any emotion on her face, he leaned away from her in his seat. Good, she'd rattled him. Now, she had to prepare to follow through if necessary. 

She pushed the muzzle of the weapon into the top of his knee. "Tell me where Marco is?" She hoped he told her. She didn't want to do it. 

Beginning to sweat, his heart rate clearly elevated, he decided to test her. He repeated his previous insult. "Fuck you." 

"Wrong answer," she told him. 

Without hesitating, Chrisjen pulled the trigger. The shot popped loudly in the tiny room, instantly followed by Davar's resounding cries of agony. She couldn't hear them, though. The shot had temporarily deafened them all. The bullet tore through his knee cap. It left a hole in his pants, revealing a mangled mess of tissue and bone at the bend in his leg, and another larger hole on the underside of his leg, where the bullet exited and collided with the floor. 

A wave of nausea swept over Chrisjen as she saw the damage. She breathed out, hard, shaking it off. She glanced at Bobbie. The woman was staring at her with wide eyes and parted lips, shocked at the action. Chrisjen simply tilted her head and lifted an eyebrow, silently telling Bobbie it was what had to be done. She also knew Amos was probably holding the crew back from interrupting her. She needed to hurry. Davar was sobbing in pain, slumped over his knee. 

Looking back to him, Chrisjen knelt down. She fought the emotion coursing through her. "Tell me where Marco is?" She asked calmly, controlling her own raging heart beat. 

"No!" The man shouted through his pain. Standing, Chrisjen took aim at his other knee. She tensed, about to fire, when he yelled frantically, "Okay!" She pushed the barrel into his leg, ensuring he meant it, and enlisting a loud, "I'll tell you!" He whimpered. "Please, don't." 

Relieved, Chrisjen handed the gun back to Bobbie, who swiftly took it from the woman and holstered it. Chrisjen coolly sat back down in her chair. 

"Where is he?" 

Still sobbing, Davar spilled, "He's hiding with half the fleet… in a mined out section of the belt… near Deimos." 

Chrisjen shot her gaze to Bobbie. She returned it, just as surprised. Deimos. He'd stayed that close to Mars this whole time. She stood quickly as she and Bobbie rushed out of the room, leaving a completely broken Davar. 

Once on the other side of the closed door they were met with a dismayed crew. Amos was standing in front them and Chrisjen was sure he had, indeed, had to hold them back. She knew what they must think of her actions. If she had been on their side of the glass wall, she probably would've thought the same thing. At the same time, she didn't care. Her actions had gotten them the exact information they needed. 

Attempting to move past the awkwardness between them, Chrisjen asked, "How long until we get to Tycho?" They just looked at her as if they'd expected to first confront what she'd just done before moving on. She exhaled, closing her eyes briefly. "It was extreme, I know," she confessed. 

"Extreme?" James practically shouted, frustrated. However, he didn't say anything more, obviously not knowing what else there was to say. 

Suddenly, Chrisjen was irked that he was questioning her. "Oh, I'm sorry," she mocked. "I'm sorry I didn't coddle the homicidal maniac who is planning on wiping out my home planet… and yours." 

"You could've killed him," James countered. 

She scoffed. "Oh please, I knew exactly what I was doing. And I got us the fucking information needed." He only looked at her. "So fuck off. How long until we get to Tycho?" 

Slowly, they seemed to snap out of their astonishment. Alex answered, "About another day." 

Nodding slowly, she looked at Naomi. "I think it's time for Archangel to put out another message."  
She appreciated it when Naomi gave a single nod without putting up a fight. She nodded toward the door. "I want to show the Belt there are people willing to stand up to this tyrant." Swallowing thickly, she added. "Someone tend to his wounds."

********************

A few minutes later, Chrisjen, Bobbie, and Naomi were on the command deck working out the next message. Naomi was logging into the black network. They'd put out a few new messages since Chrisjen had almost been killed. There were many new responses, most of which were supportive of the ideas they'd put forth. 

As they read over them, Chrisjen began pressing at the burns under her suit. They were becoming more and more frustrating, itchy and painful at once. A moment later, her hands began unconsciously rubbing at her aching neck. Naomi was reading some of the messages aloud when Chrisjen couldn't take it anymore. 

She mumbled, "Goddamn it." 

Fumbling with the zipper of her flight suit through the discomfort, her hands were shaking. She knew, however, that much of her unsteadiness was from the ordeal with Davar. Bobbie came alongside her. 

"Let me." 

Bobbie made short work of unzipping and pulled the suit off Chrisjen's upper body. She tied the sleeves around her waist. Chrisjen immediately yanked her tank top up, revealing bandages that were soaked through with plasma and blood. 

"Shit," Naomi muttered. "Hold on, I'll be right back." As she turned to leave, she called over her shoulder. "Get that gauze off her." 

Bobbie began to carefully pull the pieces of medical dressing from her side as Chrisjen held her shirt up. Each time she pulled a piece of fabric up, the older woman winced in pain. 

"I'm sorry," Bobbie apologized gently. 

Chrisjen breathed out roughly, trying to stay calm against the pain. As the air rushed over the open sores, it was a strange mix of relief and more discomfort. 

"It's alright," Chrisjen replied. She watched Bobbie, who was completely focused on the burns. "Did I do the wrong thing?" 

Glancing at her, Bobbie did a double take at the concerned expression on Chrisjen's face. After a pause, she confidently said, "No." With a hand on Chrisjen's shoulder, she told her, "You did what you had to and I'd support you doing it again." 

Eyes slipping closed, Chrisjen was grateful for the reassurance. "Thank you." 

"Don't get me wrong," Bobbie continued, going back to her work. "It was… unexpected." 

"For me too." 

Just then, Naomi came back with a med kit. She put gloves on and began applying a salve to the burns. Finally, Chrisjen felt some relief. It took several minutes and she could tell her Belter friend was taking great care not to hurt her. 

"No bandages this time," Naomi said. "Time to let the air start to heal them. That ointment should keep it from seeping." She finished and took off the gloves, then held up a med stick. "Please take this now." 

Exhaling, Chrisjen nodded. After all, she'd been trying to stay clear headed for Davar. Pain meds would have dulled her resolve, but that was done. She flinched slightly at the poke of a needle and welcomed the quick flow of painkiller into her bloodstream, relaxing under its influence. 

"Alright," Bobbie said, drawing them back to the task. "What's the message?" 

Naomi tapped the record button and nodded to Chrisjen. She began, "Beltalowda, comrades." She thought quickly about what to say and decided easily that honesty might actually be the best policy. "We have confirmed Marco Inaros's plan. He intends to destroy planet Earth using a fleet of Belter ships." She paused, considering how to rally them. "We know that many Belters feel as though Earth has been the oppressor of the Belt for over a hundred years, maybe even you feel that way. But I want you to ask yourself what the right thing is. Does fighting back mean taking billions of innocent lives, lives of children simply trying to survive? Does fighting back mean that we allow one man to speak for all of us?" Does fighting back mean that we become a party to murder?" 

She paused, not sure what to say next. "Keep going," Naomi encouraged. 

"Marco Inaros wants you to believe that Earth hates the Belt and Belters, but he is wrong. There are Earthers who have the power to change policy, to turn the tide of relations. There are Earthers who believe in peace. My question is are there Belters who believe in peace? Annihilation is not the way. War is not the way. We are on a mission to stop Marco. If you stand with us, let the Belt know. We've already destroyed many of his ships and captured one of his closest crewmen. If you know any of his captains or ships, stop them. Please. Do not let this man be the voice of all the factions. You have a voice. Now is the time to use it." 

She nodded to Naomi, who tapped the button again. "Good. I'll sign it Archangel again and put out that Davar has been captured. Why didn't you tell them about Deimos?" 

Chrisjen raised an eyebrow. "To be honest, I'm afraid they'll join him." 

********************

Twenty-four hours later, the Rocinante was on approach to Tycho Station. In her quarters, Chrisjen was putting the finishing touches on her makeup. She looked at her reflection in the small mirror that was on the wall above the also small set of inlaid drawers. Turning her face from one side to the other, she picked up her eye shadow and applied another thin coat to one eyelid, creating a perfectly even look. Next, she dabbed just a touch more lipstick to her bottom lip. 

Her hair was done in one of her trademark updos. Surveying herself again, she was satisfied. Opening the most compact jewelry box she'd had on Earth, Chrisjen glanced around it. With only a few pieces to choose from, it didn't take long to find the ornate gold necklace she sought. Slipping it around her neck, she fastened it easily and ran her fingers over it as she checked the mirror again. One last item, a pair of earrings. Plucking them out of the box, she put them on, one by one. 

Chrisjen stepped back, gazing at herself with a critical eye. She had to admit, she had missed putting herself together like this. It felt familiar and comfortable, like a second skin. She had never minded the effort of looking so regal. In fact, Chrisjen took much pride in her presentation. 

Finally, the last step. Reaching behind her, she began to gather the fabric of the wrap of her sari. She hadn't worn one in over a month and she found the task of arranging the pleats calming. Pulling slowly, she made one fold about six inches wide. She then tried to match the following folds exactly, occasionally letting one back out and redoing it. If something was worth doing, it was worth doing as perfectly as possible. 

Just then, the door slid open. Bobbie walked into the room absentmindedly. Lifting her face, her eyes fell on Chrisjen. She stopped short as their eyes met. Chrisjen watched her lips part and was instantly certain that she looked exactly as she'd hoped. Bobbie didn't look so bad either, Chrisjen thought. The young woman's long hair was down, draped over her shoulders. She had ditched her flight suit for one of the few sets of street clothes she'd brought. Her eyes were bright and Chrisjen was struck, as she often found herself, with how beautiful Bobbie really was. 

Wordlessly, the Martian made her way over to Chrisjen. She gently took the fabric from Chrisjen's hands and resumed the exercise of making the pleats. Watching her, Chrisjen's face softened. Bobbie had gotten plenty of practice on Earth at helping with the elegant clothing. It had almost become a ritual between them. The tiniest smile at Bobbie's lips told Chrisjen she still enjoyed the closeness of it. 

As Bobbie came to the end of the fabric, Chrisjen reached over to pick up the long pin that would hold it together. They glanced at each other, exchanging a caring look as the pin passed hands. Bobbie pinned the fabric as Chrisjen took it back and tucked it into her skirt. Next, Bobbie moved behind her and Chrisjen gathered the remainder of the wrap. She heard Bobbie pick up the second, shorter pin. Setting the fabric over her shoulder, Chrisjen felt Bobbie take it and secure it in place. 

A moment later, Bobbie's hands were at her hips and she felt herself being tugged lightly backward until she was leaning against her. Chrisjen allowed her eyes to slip closed as Bobbie dipped down to press her lips at Chrisjen's neck. 

Whispering in her ear, Bobbie said, "I miss you like this." 

Feeling the customary butterflies that came with Bobbie's sweet words, not to mention her lips, Chrisjen could only respond by tilting her head, inviting those full lips back. Bobbie obliged her and kissed her neck again, lingering there. Her mouth moved slowly up, just under her jaw, where she gave a gentle suck. Chrisjen stifled a moan before it could escape. When Bobbie slowly kissed her way back down Chrisjen's neck, she dragged her teeth lightly across her skin as she opened her mouth to press her tongue to the skin at the nape of her neck. It was warm and soft. Chrisjen thought she might burst. 

She turned languidly in Bobbie's arms, hands resting her chest. Their eyes met for a second before Chrisjen's gaze slid down to her lips. She couldn't help but think that Bobbie's full and gorgeous bottom lip was constantly begging to be kissed. So she leaned in and pressed her lips ever so tenderly to Bobbie's. Bobbie returned the kiss, careful not to be too forceful. She knew Chrisjen wouldn't want to mess up her impeccable lipstick. 

They stood there, in the middle of the tiny room they shared on the Rocinante, suddenly remembering all the reasons they were together. Kissing each other softly as their arms wrapped around one another. Chrisjen would never understand Bobbie's ability to be so strong and so soft at the same time. The toughest woman in the Sol and yet she touched Chrisjen so delicately. 

Pulling back to look at each other, Chrisjen smiled tenderly. These quiet times were too few and far between. She wanted to say something, but she couldn't think of a thing. The only thing she could think was how she wished they were back on Earth, safe and warm and far from everything that was about to happen. 

The smile faded from Chrisjen's countenance and she inhaled slowly. "Tell me everything will be alright," she quietly requested. 

Bobbie pulled Chrisjen into herself, enveloping the smaller woman. "Everything is going to be fine." She sounded so sure, Chrisjen believed her and it was comforting. 

Just as she almost stopped caring about her lipstick, there was a knock at the door and Chrisjen's heart fell. She wished she could draw the moment out longer. They begrudgingly released each other, and Bobbie went to the door, tapping the button. 

Naomi was there. She looked between the women, sensing she'd interrupted something. She quietly said, "Sorry, but it's time." 

Standing tall, Chrisjen squared her shoulders, shifting her focus. Indeed it was time - time to put a serious dent in Marco's plans. She stepped out into the corridor, following Naomi, as Bobbie followed her. As they walked, Chrisjen's mind began maneuvering from one possibility to the next. She has no idea what Tycho Station had in store for them, but she always tried to be one step ahead in any situation. 

At her side, Naomi asked, "When was the last time you saw Fred Johnson?" 

"Oh, not since he was on Earth," Chrisjen answered. "And even then, we barely knew each other. I didn't have much to do with the military at that time." 

"How do you think he'll react to seeing you?" 

Lifting an eyebrow, Chrisjen thought briefly. "I don't he gives a fuck about me one way or another." Then she added, "He's a former UN marine. No matter how far he runs from Earth, he will always have a loyalty to Her. He will be respectful because of that loyalty, I do know that. He'll hear us out." 

At least she hoped so. Tycho was massive and could be a huge resource, and Fred, a huge ally. 

They came to the Roci's main airlock and could already see Tycho's security team waiting on the other side. It didn't look like a warm welcome. James met them. 

He told him. "Alex and Amos are staying here to start repairs." He hit the button to open the airlock. 

As the four of them waited for those on the other side to open their own door, Bobbie came to stand next to Chrisjen. 

She quietly said, "You do not leave my side, understand?" 

"Aye, captain," Chrisjen quipped, but was only met with a serious look. 

Bobbie was probably right. There would be no hiding the news that the former Secretary General of the United Nations of Earth was there. None of them could guess what kinds of people with bad intentions might come out of the woodwork. Just as the thought began to make Chrisjen nervous, the door opened. 

A group of four uniformed officers were there. A slender man stepped forward. "Welcome to Tycho Station. We'll take you to Chief Johnson." 

Chrisjen nodded and they followed. Of course Fred wouldn't meet them personally. Sending a team was one of the oldest power plays in the book. 

Stepping into Tycho Station, she looked all around. The station was gargantuan from the outside and now that she was inside, she could see why. The corridors were wide and tall, allowing crews to haul large components anywhere in the station. She Chrisjen glanced through open doors, it looked like every space was open and huge. She reminded herself this place was a massive mobile construction platform, a space station for building space stations. 

They entered a public square and made their way across it to a set of elevators. As people bustled about, Chrisjen appreciated that it seemed to be a tight run outfit. Everyone was in uniform or sharply dressed, moving with purpose. Suddenly, Bobbie nudged her arm. She looked at her and the Martian discreetly pointed over. All four of them looked. Chrisjen's lips parted slightly. 

There, on the wall in the square was spray painted a quote. It was a paraphrased quote… from Archangel - "Stop Marco Inaros, Free the Belt." 

Under her breath, Chrisjen said, "Well, that's unexpected." 

James followed with, "Hopefully a good sign." 

"Could be," she responded. "But I don't like the fact that Marco Inaros seems to be a household name around here."

Naomi countered, "Looks like Archangel might be as well." 

Chrisjen raised an eyebrow in agreement. She decided to hold on to the notion of optimism and take Naomi's point. 

All eight of them entered a large elevator. One of the Belters hit a button. The elevator made its way through Tycho, bending to the right, then back up, to the left, and continued on. It was the longest elevator ride in Chrisjen's life, emphasizing the true size of this place. She could swear the gravity was even lower than they kept it aboard the Rocinante, and there they only kept it high enough to keep everything from floating about. It saved energy on artificial gravity and made Naomi much more comfortable. However, as the elevator moved, Chrisjen could feel the sensation of her clothing hovering just off her skin. She felt light and it gave relief to the muscles that were still sore from her ordeal in the escape pod. 

Soon the elevator car came to a stop. The door opened and they exited. In all, it had taken almost a half an hour to get to the hallway they were moving down now. Coming to a set of double doors, the four uniformed Belters stepped aside. They motioned for the crew to go in. 

Chrisjen reached for the door, but Bobbie intercepted her, grabbing her hand. James caught the movement and clearly agreed to err on the side of caution. He took it upon himself to open the door. Turning the knob and pushing it open, he revealed a large conference room with a round table in the center. They slowly entered and it reminded Chrisjen of the war room at the UN headquarters. 

Before she had a second to think anything else, a door on the opposite side of the long room opened. Out walked Fred Johnson, clad in his own Tycho Station uniform. He wordlessly looked at them and Chrisjen knew he was sizing them up, much like she was sizing him up. He looked well, if not tense. 

Finally he greeted, "Secretary General Avasarala." He gave the smallest grin and it set her at ease. 

Returning the warm look, she replied, "If we're using former titles, I guess I should call you Colonel Johnson." 

His grin widened a bit at her humor. "Please, don't," he answered light-hearted. "I only call you Secretary General because I can't stand to think of a child holding such a prestigious position." 

She liked Fred Johnson already. The two leaders took easy steps toward each other and Chrisjen responded, "Don't get me started." 

He held out his hand and Chrisjen took it. She was surprised when he covered her hand with his other one, holding her one hand in both of his with a sincere expression. He nodded slightly as if he thought this was already going better than he thought it would. She thought so too. 

He looked over her shoulder. "Naomi, good to see you." He released Chrisjen's hand and offered it to the young Belter. 

Naomi took it, giving it a shake. "You, too. Thank you so much for hosting us while we make repairs." 

"It sounded like you got pretty banged up." 

She nodded, then tilted her head toward Chrisjen. "This one took the brunt of it." 

"Yes," Fred said, glancing to her. "Our hospital has a regen pod ready for you." 

Chrisjen only nodded, disliking the attention on her injuries. "Fred, we need to talk about Marco Inaros." 

He scoffed and turned to take slow steps to the table. "He's causing quite a stir," Fred said, looking back to them as he propped himself at the edge of the table. "Communications keep coming through of him trying to sway the factions." 

"Sway them to what?" She asked quickly. 

Shrugging slightly, he answered, "No one really knows. He just keeps talking about freeing the Belt from the inner planets." Looking annoyed, he added, "Then there's this Archangel. Ever heard of them?"

Chrisjen shook her head, very interested to hear his perspective of Archangel. "No, I haven't." 

He looked at her, becoming serious. "Another vigilante," he said. "Inciting people to stand up to Marco, also claiming to want freedom for the Belt. They've been putting a lot of untraceable propaganda out." 

Narrowing her eyes, Chrisjen asked, "And what do you think?" 

He watched her without responding, sizing her up again, she knew. Neither of them flinched. Eventually he broke eye contact, glancing away and then back. "I think it's quite a coincidence that you set out on some obscure mission in space at the same time another obscure figure on the dark net starts putting out speeches using your old call sign, looking for information on another obscure Belter." 

Feigning ignorance, Chrisjen furrowed her brow. "You can't possibly think I'm this Archangel -" 

"She's Archangel." 

Suddenly they all turned as a new voice entered the room, one Chrisjen recognized, but didn't know. She caught sight of a woman, small in stature, but clearly not lacking in authority. With dark rimmed eyes and her hair pulled back into an efficient braid she strode into the room like she owned it. Hands clasped behind her back, Chrisjen eyed the distinctive tattoos. It didn't take long to realize who it was, not to mention the Medina Station patch on her uniform shoulder confirmed it. 

Camina Drummer. 

The Belter captain certainly knew how to make an entrance. Something about the confidence she carried herself with struck Chrisjen and she had an immediate respect for the woman. Her eyes followed Camina as she made her way up to Naomi. 

She greeted her with an enthusiastic, "Nagata!" She didn't even try to school the wide smile. 

Naomi instantly returned the smile, holding her arms open. The two women embraced. Chrisjen hadn't realized how close they were. "It's good to see you, Camina," Naomi said to her, as she pulled away, still firmly gripping her shoulders. 

Camina held on as well, saying, "Leave it to you to get a solid boat like the Rocinante blown up." 

Naomi chuckled at the joke. "I don't think that was my fault, so much as hers." 

Naomi turned toward Chrisjen. She released Camina and gestured toward the older woman. "Chrisjen, this is Camina Drummer. Camina, meet -"

"Chrisjen Avasarala," Camina said the name slowly, taking cautious steps in her direction. 

As she approached, Chrisjen watched her. They'd seen each other over a monitor before, but this was the first time in person. She found herself wanting to make a good impression. 

"Captain Drummer," she began, but was quickly interrupted. 

"Please don't use titles to flatter me," Camina said. 

Fair enough, Chrisjen thought, a bit thrown that the young woman was already keen to her methods. Thankfully, she knew another form of flattery, giving credit. 

"Then I'll just say thank you for all your help," Chrisjen replied. "You've given us invaluable information." 

Camina held her gaze a moment before answering. Seeming satisfied, she said, "I admit, I am hesitant to make an alliance with someone who represents an entity that has worked so tirelessly to suppress the Belt." 

Chrisjen understood and tried to set her at ease. "I no longer represent the UN." 

"But you are an Earther." Camina's tone was cold. 

The implication that she would oppose the Belt based solely on the fact that she was from Earth annoyed Chrisjen. "I can't change where I came from," she said. "But I can change my alliances, as can you." 

With the slightest nod, Camina looked her down and back up, considering. "Earther or not," she dropped the rough edges of her voice, "from what Naomi told me, you are willing to die for your crew - Martians, Belters, and Earthers alike. That is a respectable quality." 

Camina held out her hand. Chrisjen took it, gripping it tightly, knowing Camina wouldn't hold back on a firm handshake. Finally breaking eye contact, the woman looked at Fred. 

"Fred," she greeted. "It's been too long." 

She made her way to him, holding out her arm. Fred took and pulled her in for a loose hug. If Chrisjen remembered correctly, Camina had been his second in command once upon a time. The former colleagues pulled back with a solemn, yet warm expression. 

"You've gone to bigger and better things," Fred told her. 

"I am still on the ship we built together," Camina replied. "We are both working to advance the Belt." 

They'd only just met, but Camina's devotion to the Belt was clear to Chrisjen, as were the other attributes that allowed her to be successful in such a high position. She was commanding, straight forward, honest, and confident. Chrisjen couldn't help but think under different circumstances, she'd like it if they were friends. 

"Well," Fred broke into her thoughts and she tore her eyes from the shorter woman. "Shall we discuss the matter at hand." He motioned toward the conference room table. 

They all came to sit. Chrisjen reached to pull her chair out, but Bobbie beat her to it. Glancing at her, the hard look on Bobbie's face was evident, though Chrisjen wasn't sure what had caused it. However, she appreciated the gesture when Bobbie carefully slid the seat inward as she sat, then came to sit next to her. 

"So," Fred began. "Archangel has come this far. Does she have a plan?" 

"Of course," Chrisjen said matter of factly. She pulled out a data pad and slid it across the top of the table, inwardly satisfied when it stopped directly in the center. Motioning with her hand, she pulled up the holographic display. "Inaros is on Deimos with what's left of his fleet," she said. "The plan is simple." She looked at Naomi. 

The young Belter used both hands to zoom in on the projection of Deimos. "Satellite imagery sent to us anonymously shows new terraforming here. We believe Marco is actually creating the asteroids for his plan, not taking them from the Belt." She looked at Chrisjen. "Archangel has picked up quite a following. We'd like to petition the Belt for our own fleet. We intercept Marco on Deimos and destroy him." 

Chrisjen kept her confident expression, one eyebrow slightly raised, fixed. She knew the plan was a long shot. But they had run out of options. They couldn't do this on their own. Mars was in league enough with the factions controlled by Marco, they wouldn't help. Earth had buried its head in the sand, refusing to see the Belt as a threat. That left one solution - the Belt had to come together, unite as one faction and take down the man who thought himself entitled enough to make their decisions for them. 

"That's it?" Camina asked. "Please tell me there's more." 

Chrisjen spoke up. "There are enough leaders in enough factions that do not support Marco's politics. If we reach out to them, they will join us." 

The captain countered. "They will not turn on one of their own." 

"Oh, please," Chrisjen scoffed. "It's like the goddamn mafia out there," she said firmly. "Factions vying for control of resources, killing each other to jump the line through the Ring Gates. There is no loyalty between factions, there are only games." She paused before adding, "Just because you wouldn't turn on one of your own doesn't mean others wouldn't." 

"Besides," Naomi told her friend, "Marco is not one of us." 

Camina's eyes dropped for a moment. The idea of such a fractured Belt obviously made her sad. 

Chrisjen tried to encourage her. "Let's unite the Belt. Give them a common cause. Rather than destroying Earth, the Belt can save Earth." 

Eyes hard at that, Camina asked, "We've worked for the inner planets our entire existence for scraps. What will saving Earth get us?"

Leaning forward, Chrisjen ensured, "A seat at the table." 

Camina looked at Fred. He gave her a look of agreement with Chrisjen. Turning to Naomi, she asked, "Is this why you asked me to come?" 

Naomi's tone kind and empathetic, she replied, "We need you. We need your influence." 

Roughly standing from her chair, Camina took a few steps away from the table, her back to them, frustrated at the deception. Chrisjen glanced at Naomi, a look of doubt on her features. 

Barely above a whisper, Naomi assured her, "She'll do the right thing." 

Turning back to the group, Camina folded her arms across her chest. Eyes squared at Chrisjen, she asked, "What do you want me to do?"

"Put out a joint message with Archangel," Chrisjen answered quickly. "Help us rally the Belters." 

Looking around to Naomi and Fred, Camina considered the request. Chrisjen could see the wheels turning in the woman's mind. It was a big ask. She was putting her own reputation, and her career, on the line. If they were wrong and the factions wouldn't join them, she could be done for. 

Quietly, she answered, "Alright, I will do this. But I'm holding you to your word." She sat back down in her chair. "The Belt gets representation with the Inner Planetary Alliance." 

Trying not to show her relief too much, Chrisjen said a simple, "Done." 

"If you break your promise-"

"I'm not a liar," Chrisjen insisted evenly. 

Camina took a slow breath, pausing before moving on. "Very well." She stood again. "Let me make some calls, see who I can get on board with this plan of yours." 

They all stood. After a few pleasantries, Camina left to get to work. Chrisjen attempted to relax, but her back was aching from holding herself so rigidly during the meeting, and her burns were scratching against her clothing. It was beginning to push her to the edge of civility. She unconsciously reached out to grip Bobbie's arm, getting an instant look of concern from her Martian companion. Fred caught the falter as well. 

"Madam Secretary," he said. She looked at him, forcing her composure back into place. "I promised you a regeneration pod." 

She wanted to thank him, but hated the idea of admitting that she needed it. As she was trying to consider how to respond, Naomi took the burden from her. "Thank you, Fred." She turned to Chrisjen. "She's been through a lot." 

He nodded his understanding. "I'll show you to our medical facility." 

********************

A half hour later, Chrisjen was in the regeneration room. It was a small room with dark walls. Once she turned the light out, it would be almost completely dark in the room, save for the black light on one of the walls. The darkness was meant to help with the sensory deprivation that aided in healing. 

She was taking off her clothing, a chore in itself, but the last thing she wanted to do was go back to the Rocinante, change and come back. Of course, it was easy for her to take off and put back on the sari. However, she did think about how much more pleasant it was with a certain someone assisting. 

Once the elaborate outfit was both hung up and draped over a chair, Chrisjen moved to the pod, lifting the top of it. Before getting in, she inspected the burns. They were a fiery red with some spots beginning to peel and reveal new skin. They still stretched from her chest, across the entire side of her torso, down to her hip. It was taking so much of her body's energy to heal them, it left her exhausted. 

She was grateful for the opportunity to heal them, not to mention the pain in her back and constant ache in her neck. Sitting down in the long pod, as if sitting on a bed before settling in, Chrisjen tapped a button to turn the light off. The purple glow of the black light took over and the darkness quickly relaxed her. She laid down in the pod and pulled the top down over her. A small graphic display appeared on the top of the pod. She tapped the settings. 

Taking a deep breath, she waited. It only took a minute for the pod to begin filling with the liquid that carried a heavy amount of custom medications, vitamins, and minerals. Combined with a special agent that softened the skin, the liquid would be absorbed through every pore in her body. Soon, the liquid filled the pod. She felt it against her burns. It was warm and it eased her. It seeped through her, getting into her bloodstream and seeking out the damaged tissue and muscle. 

The prescribed time was over two hours. The hum of the pod, along with the soothing qualities of the liquid soon lulled her into a nap. 

********************

A few hours later, Chrisjen was happily boarding the Roci again. She felt better… a lot better. The muscle pain was completely gone. When she got out of the pod, she marveled at the new skin that had already grown over her burns. The bright red color was gone as was the flaking, irritated skin. Her clothing moving against her didn't bother her in the least. She had only been in a regeneration pod a few times in her life. It was only meant for extreme injuries. Thrilled for her body to be feeling better, she also enjoyed the other side effects. Endorphins and a bit of adrenaline were also coursing through her. A person was meant to be on cloud nine after time in a pod. 

Making her way down the main corridor of the ship, Chrisjen came to her quarters. Tapping the door button, she walked in casually until she saw Bobbie. The young woman had been sitting at the small table in the room but quickly stood when Chrisjen entered. 

"How are you feeling?" She asked, even as she made her way over to Chrisjen. 

"Much better," she answered. She held her arms open and melted into the embrace Bobbie offered. 

Bobbie's exhaled. "Good. You looked so tired when I left you." 

Chrisjen pulled back to look over her. She loved it when Bobbie worried about her. It was sweet, especially since Bobbie wasn't a worrier. A slow smile formed on her lips as she surveyed the beautiful woman. Her hair was still down and just messy enough to make it insanely attractive. Chrisjen combed her fingers into it and Bobbie's eyes fluttered closed. Slowly drawing them back together, Chrisjen pressed her lips to Bobbie's. 

It was a soft kiss, an easy kiss. It was a comforting kiss. Chrisjen enjoyed the silken feel of Bobbie's hair in her fingers. She loved the way their lips moved against each other. More than anything, she was thrilled when Bobbie gripped her waist with no discomfort from her injuries. The kiss ended with their noses still nuzzling each other. Bobbie began to pepper light kisses over her face and at her neck. 

Chrisjen whispered, "My Martian." At the simple statement, Bobbie's tongue pressed against the skin just under her jaw, eliciting a sharp inhale from the older woman. Chrisjen emphasized her point, saying, "You're my Martian." 

The next thing she felt was Bobbie's hands moving across the fabric of her sari. She slipped her palm up Chrisjen's ribcage and over her breast to her shoulder. Lips staying attached to her neck, she expertly released the pin holding the wrap over her shoulder. She let it fall to the floor and Chrisjen allowed the cloth to fall off her. 

After that, Bobbie came to capture her lips in a deep kiss. Chrisjen was unable to hold back the smallest moan from escaping the back of her throat. Bobbie's perfectly silky tongue slipped over her bottom lip and Chrisjen parted her lips, letting their tongues meet and it ignited a fire in her belly. She began to push into Bobbie, heat rising inside her. 

Bobbie's hands were at her waist again, pulling the pin that held the pleats of the skirt together. In a second the pin was gone and the pleats loosened. One gentle tug from the Martian and the entire wrap fell away, leaving only her blouse and skirt. 

Chrisjen continued to push until Bobbie was taking backward steps. Their touches were building into something desperate. Chrisjen began pulling at Bobbie's shirt until she lifted her arms and allowed Chrisjen to take it off her. 

Their eyes finally met again and Chrisjen saw Bobbie's dark pupils and she knew she was about to use all the extra energy the regen pod had given her. She couldn't wait. Her own eyes mirrored the wanting look on Bobbie's face. They began breathing hard. 

Then Bobbie roughly grabbed Chrisjen's hips, pulling her into a hard kiss. Chrisjen palmed her breasts over her sports bra and Bobbie groaned into her mouth. Bobbie adjusted to grip her wrists, stopping the movements at her chest.

She stared at Chrisjen for a moment, lips parted. Voice low, Bobbie told her, "I saw the way you looked at Camina Drummer earlier." Suddenly, Chrisjen understood the strange look she'd seen on Bobbie's face during the meeting. "I didn't like it." 

Smirking, Chrisjen asked, "Jealous?" 

"Yes," Bobbie admitted seriously, holding her gaze. Releasing her wrists, she spread her fingers over Chrisjen's cheeks. "I don't want you to ever look at anyone like that again." She kissed Chrisjen once on her lips. "That look is reserved for me, no one else. Okay?" 

The unbending look on Bobbie's countenance told her it wasn't a joke. The way she'd looked at Camina meant something to Bobbie and Chrisjen adored the idea that a simple look would make her so possessive, because Chrisjen wanted to be wanted. It was something she'd never felt before, the sensation of someone having a deep desire to be with her. Not because of what they got from it, but just because they loved her. 

Unable to breath evenly through her growing arousal, Chrisjen could only whisper back, "No one else." She was surprised at the breathy sound of her own voice, but fuck, if a jealous Bobbie Draper wasn't the sexiest thing she'd ever seen. 

Bobbie didn't give her time to process it, though, before slamming their mouths together. She kissed Chrisjen again and again. Shifting to remove the blouse of her sari, Bobbie didn't take her time, pulling harshly at the garment through her desire. The way Bobbie wanted her only made Chrisjen want Bobbie more. 

Between kisses, Bobbie breathed out, "If I'm your Martian…" She sucked at Chrisjen's neck, "then you're my Earther…" Her lips flew back to Chrisjen's mouth for a hot kiss, drawing out the contact before their lips separated with a perfect tiny sound. "We belong to each other." 

The words of commitment brought warmth to her heart and, simultaneously, a throbbing ache to her core. Her eyes locked with Bobbie's. Nodding slowly, easily agreeing with the statement, she stepped closer, close enough that the front of their bodies pressed together and Chrisjen could feel the heat on her lover's skin. She leaned her forehead against Bobbie's chin and her hands settled lightly at her solid torso. She was surprised to find that Bobbie was trembling. It must have thrown her to say something so vulnerable. 

Chrisjen only had to move an inch to press a gentle kiss to Bobbie's neck, then another to her collar bone. She nipped lightly at the spot, drawing a small sound from the woman, before kissing her shoulder. Continuing to lay kisses across Bobbie's chest, she reached to unbutton her pants. Bobbie assisted her, pushing the pants down until she stepped out of them. Her hands went back to Chrisjen's face and they kissed madly. 

The ache inside Chrisjen began spreading tingly heat through her body until every cell inside her twinged with desire. Her fingers fumbled as they searched for the zipper on her skirt. Bobbie wasn't the only one trembling. Finally she unzipped it and the fabric pooled at her ankles. 

Feeling Bobbie's hands go to her hair, Chrisjen closed her eyes. She knew the other woman enjoyed this part. Slowly, Bobbie's fingers explored the elaborate hairdo. She found small pin after small pin, carefully pulling them out and letting them fall away. Untwisting the tie that held it together, Chrisjen's thick onyx hair came down. Bobbie ran her fingers through the hair, lightly scratching at Chrisjen's scalp. She found herself swaying gently with the movement of Bobbie's hands. 

"You're so beautiful." 

Chrisjen blinked her eyes open at the statement. She loved Bobbie's accent. It was smooth and fit her timbre perfectly. The Martian wasn't quick to dole out compliments of any sort and this one made Chrisjen forget her age and her wrinkles. They were simply two women who loved each other and nothing else mattered. 

Reaching around the taller woman, Chrisjen pulled the sports bra off, loving the way Bobbie's long hair fell over her shoulders. Her perfect breasts bounced a bit as they were released from the bra. Chrisjen dropped the piece of cloth, instantly distracted. Her hands went to the soft mounds and she rested her forehead at Bobbie's chest, eyes open, watching as her own hands kneaded these gorgeous tits. Bobbie's breathing increased and Chrisjen knew she wanted more. shifting a knee between her legs, Chrisjen encouraged her to open. Removing one hand, she reachd to press her fingers at Bobbie's center. A loud groan came from the woman and she instinctively bucked against Chrisjen's hand. 

Bobbie's need exploded. She roughly, and somehow smoothly, pushed Chrisjen backward toward the bunk. Her back hit the top bunk, a little hard. They tore their lips away from each other as Chrisjen let out an awkward, "Ophf."

"Sorry," Bobbie apologized, looking worried. 

Smiling at her, Chrisjen simply reached her arms around broad shoulders and kissed her again. Then she laid down on the tiny bed, pulling Bobbie after her. The young woman sank into her, kissing her everywhere. Unhooking her bra, Bobbie tossed it away and spread herself over Chrisjen. Their breasts touched together and Chrisjen was burning for her. She nudged Bobbie's head down and the young Martian took the hint. 

"Ahhh," Chrisjen breathed out hard as full lips kissed around her nipple before taking it in and sucking. Bobbie didn't hold back, rolling her tongue over the firm nub and then sucking harder until Chrisjen was squirming beneath her. She felt electricity shooting into the deepest parts of her body with every suck. She couldn't stop the moans that came with the sensations, and when Bobbie switched to the other breast, she didn't know if she could take it again. 

Just then, the woman on top moved to sit up and straddle her hips. However, she unexpectedly banged her head against the top bunk. 

"Shit," Bobbie hissed. 

Chrisjen chuckled, running her hands comfortingly at Bobbie's thighs. Annoyed, Bobbie rushed off the bottom bunk. Yanking the blanket off the top bunk, she spread it on the floor, then removed the pillow and set it with the blanket on the floor. 

Coming to her knees next to Chrisjen, still on the bed, she asked, breathless, "How's your back?" 

Easily tracking her, Chrisjen answered, "Perfect." 

Grinning at her, Bobbie slipped her arms underneath Chrisjen, pulled her off the bunk and gently set her on top of the blanket on the floor. Moving quickly, she retrieved the personal lubricant they kept under their pillow. Wasting no time, she moved down and grabbed Chrisjen's panties. The Earther lifted her hips, allowing Bobbie to take them off. Chrisjen watched as Bobbie took off her own underwear and climbed on top of her. 

"I want you," Bobbie breathed out. 

She kissed Chrisjen hard, warm tongue pressing to Chrisjen's. Each one opening their lips, the two women kissed as deeply as they could. Neither tried to hold back the sounds that came with the contact. But when Bobbie pushed the heel of her hand to Chrisjen's center, she tore her mouth away with a loud groan. Now it was her turn to buck against Bobbie. 

With knees on either side of Chrisjen's hips, Bobbie snatched the small bottle, putting a little bit of the lube on her finger. Bobbie tossed it aside and focused on Chrisjen. She began to grind her hand against the older woman. Completely unashamed, Chrisjen moved with the touches, getting lost in the heat and incessant throbbing. It thrilled her and, fuck, it felt so good. She let her arms move above her head, closing her eyes and she felt one of Bobbie's hands cover her breast and squeeze. It would have hurt if Chrisjen wasn't already getting close. 

Bobbie switched her technique, pushing her fingertips to Chrisjen's clit and swirling around it. Chrisjen was about to be done for, but not before giving Bobbie the same pleasure. Forcing herself to focus, she shifted her hand and put pressure against Bobbie's center. The younger woman clearly didn't need any help with lubricant. Slipping between her folds, Chrisjen began to tease her. 

Bobbie tried to keep up her own movements, but they soon became intermittent. Her uneven breathing came in short gasps and muttered expletives. Soon she fell into a rhythm with Chrisjen, riding her hand and allowing the leverage of her position over her to deepen the touches. 

"God, Chris," Bobbie whispered, eyes shut tight. 

Chrisjen watched as sweat formed along Bobbie's hairline and at the beautiful dip between her breasts. Unable to tear her gaze from Bobbie's chest, Chrisjen admired the way her perfect, pillowy, perky tits bounced with her rocking motion. Fuck, she was gorgeous. 

Louder groans came as Bobbie let her head slump forward. Her hand fell away from Chrisjen's center. She was close. Chrisjen recognized those exquisite sounds and the limpness in her limbs. Increasing the roughness of her touches, Chrisjen adjusted her position to pleasure her lover with both hands. Bobbie sucked in deep breaths. 

Panting with her effort, Chrisjen stopped holding back, unleashing a barrage of friction against Bobbie's clit. The woman inhaled a long gasp as her body tensed. Chrisjen felt her lover's innermost muscles stiffen around her fingers and the feeling was exhilarating. Knowing she could do this to someone like Bobbie Draper made her feel like a master of the universe. 

Bobbie slowly fell forward, her body tensing and relaxing over and over as her orgasm made its way through all her nerves. Finally her forehead landed against Chrisjen's shoulder and she let out a satisfied groan. Shifting from underneath her, Chrisjen came to her knees. She knew a lot about orgasms and riding one out to the very last aftershock was one of her specialties. She nudged Bobbie to lay on her back.

"Relax," she whispered, though Bobbie seemed unable to open her eyes anyway. 

Without fanfare, Chrisjen took a nipple into her mouth and ran her tongue over it slowly. It worked and Bobbie's body gave a few light convulsions. She moved to the other side and repeated the action. She went on like that, giving perfectly timed attention to Bobbie's center, until the jerking of her hips ceased and she knew Bobbie was completely sated, having enjoyed every second of pleasure possible. 

Tucking herself beside Bobbie, Chrisjen peppered tender kisses at her face. After long minutes, Bobbie finally opened her eyes. Foggy, she glanced around until she saw Chrisjen's teasing grin. She returned the smile with a chuckle and it made Chrisjen laugh lightly. 

Bobbie reached an arm around Chrisjen's shoulders. "You have to teach me how to do that." 

"Hmm," Chrisjen hummed. "I have to keep some secrets to myself." 

Biting her bottom lip, Bobbie's look shifted to concern. "I'm sorry," she apologized and Chrisjen knew exactly what she meant. 

"Don't ever be sorry," she assured Bobbie. Orgasms weren't why Chrisjen made love to Bobbie. The fact that Bobbie had lost the ability to use her hands before she brought Chrisjen to climax wasn't the least bit important to the older woman. "Everything you did felt amazing." She kissed Bobbie's mouth. 

Not accepting the answer, Bobbie said, "You give me so much more than I give you when it comes to sex." 

"No, no, no," Chrisjen drawled, kissing her again. "You have no idea what you give me." They stayed on the floor, touching, kissing, stealing as much time as they could. It was a perfect moment and Chrisjen didn't want it to end. One thing was certain. If the crew wasn't sure about the status of their relationship before, their lack of noise control today had definitely given them away.

Suddenly a thought came to her, a thought she'd had a thousand times, but had never shared with her companion. She was always nervous of what Bobbie might think of it. However, somehow, right now, she wanted more than anything to tell her about the thought. 

Gently breaking a kiss, she looked at Bobbie with a soft smile. "There actually is one secret I'd like to share with you." 

Bobbie perked up with a small quirk of her lips. "What's that?" 

Hesitant, Chrisjen paused. "Maybe I should show you." She turned over to look around. Eyes landing on the discarded fabric of her sari, she pointed. "Pull that over here." 

With a light chuckle, Bobbie stretched over her, reaching out for the garment. Grabbing it, Chrisjen searched around until she found the glass data pad hidden away in a pocket. She pulled it out and set it on the floor. Tapping it, she pulled up a holographic picture of Earth. The glowing blue and green ball rotated slowly above them, filling the room with an easy light. Happily, Bobbie got up and turned the room's overhead light off. She came back to settle in. 

Looking at her with a hint of apprehension, Chrisjen said, "If you think this is completely ridiculous, I'll turn it off." Bobbie only gave her a curious expression. 

Chrisjen was suddenly nervous. This wasn't how she had planned on presenting the idea. Bobbie was so fiercely loyal to Mars. The last thing Chrisjen wanted was for her to resent the idea as manipulation. After all, Chrisjen hadn't hidden the fact that she wanted Bobbie with her on Earth. 

She took a breath. Swiping, Chrisjen rotated the globe, stopping on the South Pacific Ocean. It was a motion image and the ocean seemed alive with the movement of the water. She pointed to some tiny dots on the surface of the sea.

"Do you see those islands?" Chrisjen asked. 

Bobbie nodded. "Barely." 

Bobbie was lying down, propped on one elbow. Chrisjen glanced over to see her eyes were glued to the projection. Using both hands, she zoomed in on the cluster of islands. The water around them was aqua blue and the small landmasses, green and lush. 

Chrisjen looked at her again. "This is the island country of Samoa." Bobbie narrowed her eyes, surveying it. Slowly, the young woman sat up and Chrisjen mirrored the movement. 

"What are those white lines on the ocean?" Bobbie asked. 

Smiling softly at the question, Chrisjen answered, "Those are white cap waves." She thought it was wonderful that Bobbie didn't know. She wanted to show her every beautiful thing Earth had to offer. "I did some research," she said quietly. 

Bobbie didn't take her gaze off the image when she inquired, "What kind of research?"

"Ancestry research," she answered. 

Swallowing, her breathing picking up slightly, Bobbie finally looked at her. "Whose ancestry?" 

Scooting closer to her, Chrisjen lifted a hand to Bobbie's smooth cheek. Expression affectionate, she asked, "Have you ever thought about why you are so fascinated by the ocean?" 

Eyes filling with tears, Bobbie dropped her gaze. When she looked back up, the tears had escaped and it pulled at Chrisjen's heart. She ran her thumbs over Bobbie's face, wiping them away. Bobbie glanced back to the image. Unable to stop touching her, Chrisjen moved a hand to run her fingers through Bobbie's dark hair. 

"Are you saying this is where I'm from?" 

Slowly nodding, even though they weren't looking at each other, Chrisjen could see she was touched. "Specifically," Chrisjen said, turning back to the projection, she zoomed in a bit more, "your great, great, great grandparents are from the capital. There," she pointed to the larger island. "Apia." Furrowing her brow, she added, "I think I'm saying it correctly." 

With a sniffle, Bobbie used her own hands to take control of the projection. She zoomed in on the island, manipulating it to see it from the perspective of being on the water. Staring, she took in the swaying trees and mountains covered with vegetation. Moving the camera angle over the island, she focused on the city itself, looking over the unique architecture that was certainly nothing like anything on Mars. 

"It's beautiful," Bobbie whispered. 

Her own gaze still pinned on her lover, Chrisjen agreed. "Yes." Taking her hand, she said, "I want to take you there." 

"I want to go," Bobbie replied without hesitation. She finally looked at Chrisjen. "Thank you." 

Seeing the way Bobbie clearly appreciated the new found knowledge, Chrisjen chided herself for thinking she would be offended in any way. It only confirmed what Chrisjen had always suspected. Deep down, Bobbie longed for Earth. 

Leaning in, Bobbie kissed her solidly. Chrisjen smiled against her lips. Standing, Bobbie hurriedly located her bra and boy shorts. Then she snatched up her own data pad. Sitting back down on the floor, she leaned her back against the bottom bunk, pulling the blanket off. 

"Come 'ere," she told Chrisjen. 

Obeying, Chrisjen sat next to her, pulling her knees to her chest. Bobbie slipped the blanket over them. Though Chrisjen still hated the poly blend, she was grateful for the warmth. Bobbie tapped around and began reading aloud the entire history of the Samoan islands. Chrisjen could only think that she couldn't wait to give her all she'd uncovered about the woman's family. 

Laying her head on Bobbie's shoulder, she listened to her read paragraphs that she'd already read herself. However, she relished hearing it from Bobbie. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her fingers around Bobbie's bicep. She breathed out and relaxed into her, unable to school the close lipped smile on her face. 

There was so much activity happening right outside their door, she knew. The crew busied themselves repairing the ship. Their allies on Tycho were working to ensure their plan would succeed. Chrisjen almost felt selfish sitting here in soft light, shutting out the world for as long as they could. At the same time, every second spent with this woman was proving to be the most significant of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would be interested to hear how the reader thinks Chrisjen would have responded to Davar. To me, it is not out of the realm of possibility for her to blow away some knee caps. I think back to season 1 and her absolute comfort administering gravity torture to a poor Belter. I also think she's changed since season 1, so how do those two aspects of her personality reconcile. I think she's willing to do whatever it takes for the greater good, but she might have had Bobbie do the knee capping. Lol.


	7. They Will Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team prepares for the upcoming confrontation with Marco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter.

The stars had always fascinated Chrisjen. Tiny lights blinking so far away no ship yet built by humanity could reach them. Tens of trillions of miles past the Sol, into an unimaginable vastness, that's where the stars rested. So far, and yet all the way on Earth, she could see their light. How insignificant the solar system must seem to a star. After all, it gave off a brightness that reached for almost five light years. The power harnessed in the core of each star was so concentrated, it could destroy an entire galaxy and there were billions of them out there. Billions of massive time bombs capable of devastation, yet they looked so small and beautiful to her human eye. 

Not only that, each star was millions, billions of miles away from its closest companion. To Chrisjen, the more she learned about stars, the more unimportant she felt, a speck upon the universe's eyelash. She couldn't help but wonder what other civilizations were out there. How many thriving systems were on the other side of the Rings? Were they closer to the stars? Did those systems have as many planets as the Milky Way? Did the same conflict exist in those systems that sadly existed here? 

Conflict. 

It was unavoidable. It was destructive and alienating. Chrisjen's entire life seemed as if it had somehow been dedicated to conflict. Whether she was stalling it, causing it, or resolving it, it was always her bedfellow. She could never shake it. The moment one ended, another exploded. Civil unrest on Earth, brewing superiority on Mars, skirmishes in the Belt, and conspiracies among them all, there was never any rest from it. 

Chrisjen had accepted it a long time ago. In many ways, conflict is what brought her to become the most powerful woman in the galaxy. She hated to admit that deep down, there were times she welcomed it. It often proved to serve her own interests and the interests of Earth. Without conflict, there was no advancement. Everyone wanted more and as long as they wanted more, they would try to take it, and as long as they tried to take it, people like her would be necessary. 

Conflict had been good to Chrisjen. It made her rich, powerful, and respected. And because she was intelligent enough to know how to pull people's strings, she knew how to make it continue working for her and Earth. But that didn't mean she liked it. 

She had seen first hand the damage it caused, the lives lost and others destroyed forever. She, herself, had often been a part of setting such events into motion. However, just because conflict had built her didn't mean she got away unscathed. Too often she was tortured by the memory of her lost son, thinking of how they would gaze at the stars together, discussing their significance, even as he grew into adulthood. Like her, he was never too old to look in wonder at the night sky. 

Shaking herself from musings that began to turn dark, she exhaled. Chrisjen walked away from the large window in Fred Johnson's office, averting her eyes from the tiny gleams of light. She sat down in the chair at his desk, waiting for a call she'd scheduled a few hours ago. 

Their plan was coming together. Fred was rallying the faction aboard Tycho Station and Camina had convinced another faction from Medina to join them. Soon, they would meet together to issue their joint statement calling on all Belters to come to their aid. Chrisjen had a feeling of optimism growing inside her, though she told herself to stay rooted in the negative possibilities. They kept her sharp. 

As she stared at the desktop monitor, waiting for the call to come in, the door opened and Bobbie came walking swiftly inside. 

"Hey," she greeted with a nod of her head, coming to stand in front of the desk. She set her hands on top of it and leaned forward slightly. "Two more factions have agreed to fight with us," she said with a triumphant expression. 

Breathing out, Chrisjen let her eyes slip closed in relief. "That is good news." 

"I'm starting to think this insane idea of yours might work." Bobbie crossed her arms over her chest. 

Looking back at her, Chrisjen replied, "So am I." 

Countenance softening, Bobbie walked around the desk. "You heard from him yet?" 

With a small shake of her head, she answered, "No." 

Bobbie perched herself at the edge of the desk in front of Chrisjen. She asked quietly, "How are you?" 

Surveying the young woman, the side of Chrisjen's mouth lifted. She reached over to affectionately wrap her fingers around Bobbie's wrist. The Martian returned the touch, covering Chrisjen's smaller hand with her own. 

"I just want all this to be over," Chrisjen answered solemnly.

Leaning toward her, Bobbie assured, "Soon it will be." Eyes brightening, she added, "And then you'll take me on that vacation you promised." 

At that, Chrisjen smiled fully. The thought was wonderful. However, the happy look was fleeting. When it faded, she was sad. Her mind drifted back to the idea that there may be a place, beyond the Rings, where fighting wasn't a way of life, and where they didn't simply exist from one conflict to the next. 

Gazing at Bobbie, this woman she wanted more than anything to protect, she said, "I don't mean that I want this fight to be over." She took Bobbie's hands. "I want all the fighting to be over." She shook her head. "It's all so pointless, don't you think?"

Bobbie's brow knit. She opened her mouth to answer and then closed it again. Looking suddenly confused, she paused before replying. "I was trained to be a soldier. I don't think I know another way." 

Chrisjen's heart went out to her. The idea that Bobbie saw herself as nothing more than a war machine made her ache inside. She knew a side of the woman that apparently she didn't even know herself. 

"Bobbie." They looked at each other and Chrisjen recognized the rare expression of insecurity on her companion. "You do know another way," Chrisjen said confidently. "You show me every time we're together. Just me and you." She glanced down to their joined hands, noticing how Bobbie had begun to sweetly stroke her thumb over Chrisjen's. "You're so caring with me. You may have been trained as a soldier, but that's not who you are. You are a protector, and those are two very different things. You fight because you care." 

Bobbie only looked at her and swallowed thickly with a small nod. Chrisjen gave her an encouraging smile. 

Just then, the monitor on the desk beeped an incoming call. Hesitantly, the two women released their grip on each other's hands. Turning away from her, Bobbie slid her fingertips beneath her eyelids, wiping the unshed tears. Chrisjen didn't miss the movement and she hoped her words had spoken the truth in her heart. But now she needed to focus. Back to the conflict. 

The second she saw the name flash on the screen, she was instantly heartened. She quickly tapped the button to accept the call. The face of her friend and former head of security came into view. 

Chrisjen smiled brightly. "Caleb, my friend." She found herself wishing she could hug him. She was glad to see how well he looked, considering what he had been through the last time she saw him. "It's so good to see you." 

"Madam," he greeted with his own reserved grin that never gave away too much emotion. "It's good to see you too." He glanced over her shoulder at Bobbie, who was standing just beside her chair. "Draper," he said lightly. 

"Ghazi," she replied warmly. 

Chrisjen had called Caleb several times aboard the Rocinante. She needed to keep tabs on Nancy Gao and the happenings at the UN, and she took the opportunity to keep him informed of their progress. She had made a special request for Nancy to keep him on as security coordinator. She'd hated asking the woman for anything. Though she hadn't seen him in person since before the bombing on Luna. Unlike Chrisjen, Caleb was still recovering from his injuries and may not ever fully recover, a fact she felt a terrible burden over. 

"You're looking better," she observed. 

"By the time you get back here, I'll be on my own two feet again," he promised. 

"I don't doubt it for a second." 

"To what do I owe the pleasure, ma'am?" He asked. "Have you found Inaros?" 

A triumphant gleam in her eye, she answered, "Yes, he's on Deimos." 

Bobbie continued. "He's using Martian terraforming tech to create two massive asteroids from the moon." 

Chrisjen picked back up, not holding back. They didn't have time. "He intends to use a fleet of ships to move them to Earth and hurl them through the atmosphere." 

Caleb's mouth opened. "How massive is massive?" 

"Massive enough to cause complete devastation," Bobbie said. "By our calculations, possibly even total destruction." 

"Destruction," he repeated. "... of Earth." Chrisjen watched as he grasped the situation. "When?"

"Soon," she answered. "We are gathering the Belters to intercept him-" 

"The Belters?" 

"Just shut up and let me fucking finish," she told him. He looked irritated and suddenly their old dynamic was back in place, the natural push and pull that made them more friends than colleagues. "We are confident that we'll be able to stop him, but if we can't…" 

He nodded slowly. "What do you want me to do?" 

"I'm sending you everything we have." Even as she said it, she began sending Caleb every piece of intel they'd found in the last couple of weeks. "Take it to Nancy, tell her everything. If this plan continues through, she will need to order an evacuation from the surface of as many people as possible." Just saying it made her feel sick.

"Why don't you tell her?" He countered, dodging the job, half joking.

Chrisjen narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't have time to explain it to her," she answered. "Nor would I be able to tolerate her blank and ignorant expression as I went over it for the dozenth time." She waved her hand dismissively. "No, this is why I'm paying you." 

"I thought you were paying me for security?" He quipped. 

Rolling her eyes, she asked, "Any questions?" 

He grinned. "No ma'am." 

She couldn't help return it. "Good. Hurry." And instinctively told him, "And be safe." 

"I don't know what you're planning, but you too." He glanced to Bobbie again. "Draper?" 

She rested a hand on Chrisjen's shoulder, instantly knowing what he was asking. "You know I've got her." 

Chrisjen gazed at the man, the wish to hug him returning. These two, her personal guardians, angels sent from the universe to look out for her. She adored them both. 

"Good," he replied. "I'll go to Gao now." 

Nodding, Chrisjen finished, "Thank you." 

He tapped to end the call and the screen went blank. Chrisjen exhaled deeply. She had been avoiding telling Nancy, hoping they would solve the problem before it came to this point. She hated the idea of trouncing around the expanse like some sort of space cowgirl, getting blown up by missiles and shooting out knee caps while fucking Nancy Gao took all the credit for saving Earth. Now she realized she should have been straight forward with the Secretary General elect from the beginning. Though she was confident they would win, she could only hope her pride wouldn't leave Earth without enough time to evacuate if she were wrong. 

"Chrisjen." 

She started at the sound of her name spoken hesitantly by Bobbie behind her. She turned to see the Martian staring out the window she'd been looking out earlier. Standing, Chrisjen noticed what Bobbie was looking at. 

Her lips parted and she took slow, unbelieving steps toward the window. In the short time she'd taken her gaze away from space, the landscape outside Tycho was changing. It was becoming dotted with Belter ships. There were already a dozen or so and she could see the blinking lights of a few more coming far in the distance. This was it. Their armada was taking shape. These must be the ships from the faction here in Tycho, she thought. 

Slightly turning her head toward Bobbie, she asked, "Are they battleships?" 

Stepping beside her, Bobbie answered, "Not many." She pointed. "Those are remanufactured Martian gunships. Old, but they'll get the job done. That one is a bomber, actually. We get it close enough, it can take out several ships at once." She pointed to a small cluster of boats. "Those are freighters. Not sure what they'll be good for." 

With a knowing scoff, Chrisjen posed, "If I know anything about Belters it's that things aren't always what they appear. I have a feeling those are more than mere freighters." Just then, her comm pad beeped. She fished it from the pocket of her sari. It was James. 

The moment she picked up, he said, "We're ready for you." 

"Understood," she responded. "We'll be right there." Hanging up, she glanced at Bobbie and raised her eyebrows. "Showtime." 

********************

Soon, they were all back together in the conference room. Chrisjen, Naomi, and Camina were huddled together, trying to decide the best and fastest way to convince as many Belters to come as possible. 

"They need to see you," Camina said, matter of factly, to Chrisjen. 

She was silent, unsure, holding the Belter captain's gaze. "Would that not hurt more than help?" Chrisjen asked. 

"We are running out of possibilities," Camina answered, stoic.

She didn't elaborate and Chrisjen found herself wondering how the woman managed to always seem so unaffected by the events around her. Glancing at Naomi, Chrisjen gave her a questioning look. 

"I think she's right," Naomi agreed. "But you're not going to like it." 

Expression becoming skeptical, Chrisjen inquired, "What do you mean?" 

The two Belters exchanged a glance. Camina told her, "It involves you keeping your mouth shut." When Camina gave the tiniest grin of satisfaction, Chrisjen gave her a half-hearted glare. "If we can paint the picture of a vulnerable Earth in need of rescue, and promise them a place in the Inner Planetary Alliance, the factions will come." 

Chrisjen looked at them, mouth agape, hating the idea and simultaneously knowing they were right. It wasn't in her nature to be quiet, nor fade into the background. However, if there were ever a time to dismiss her pride, this was it. 

Quelling her constant need to be in charge, she breathed out a muttered, "Fuck." 

She turned to Bobbie, seeking some kind of validation and found herself met with her Martian smirking at her, holding up her hands in mock surrender, signaling she wasn't coming to Chrisjen's defense this time. Her shoulders slumped and she acquiesced to their plan. 

"Fine," she said dramatically. 

"Alright then," Camina said. She walked up to the monitor in the wall, preparing to broadcast out to the Belt. She glanced at Chrisjen. "You go first." 

Chrisjen nodded. Camina tapped the button, opening a visual channel that was accessible across the Belt. She knew at this moment, there were people on every station, in every region of the Belt, listening. They had run out of time. This was their last chance, and the moment weighed heavily on her. 

"People of the Belt," Chrisjen began, though the greeting lacked her usual bluster. This wasn't the moment for vibrado. It was a moment for humility. "My name is Chrisjen Avasarala. I am the former Secretary General of the United Nations of Earth." Pause for effect, she told herself. "But you may know me better as Archangel. When I first came to you, it was because I needed your help. Now, I am coming to you again, asking for much more than information." 

Unsure of how to continue, Chrisjen was grateful when she felt Camina's small, but firm, hand grip her shoulder. Stepping beside her, she took over, and where Chrisjen thought she would feel resentment, she only felt relief and respect. She took a tiny, unconscious step backwards, listening. 

"In her first message to you all," Camina said, "Archangel told you 'despite that every faction has disagreements on how to gain and keep our independence, we can all agree on one thing - we want freedom for the Belt.'" She paused, taking a breath. "For generations, Earth has kept the Belt under their thumb while they took everything we had. Even people like this woman." She indicated Chrisjen and a wave of shame came over her. She pushed it down. Weakness could come later. "But I assure you, I have heard her heart. She has seen her error. She has already told you the story of one of our own who has turned his back on us in an even worse way than Earth ever did. This man has stolen our reputation. He murders in our name. We cannot stand by while he commits the genocide of genocides." Facing Chrisjen, Camina said, "Chrisjen Avasarala, the Archangel who is willing to sacrifice everything to save her planet, has called on you to help her save Earth." 

She looked back to the camera, continuing. "Now, I am calling on you to save Earth. Not for Earth, but for the Belt. Should freedom come by the death of billions, or should freedom come by saving billions?" She held her hands out, requesting, "Come to us. Come to us at Tycho, now. We are preparing to march on this enemy. Come fight with us and, I promise, you will not fight alone. You will have the battleships of Medina, the gunships of Tycho, and the cunning fighters of Ceres at your back and your front. We fight as one to defend the honor of the Belt and to earn our rightful place with the Inner Planetary Alliance. Chrisjen Avasarala, an Earther among Earthers, is fighting beside you also. She has already proven that she is willing to die for Belters. Fight with her, fight with me." 

Stepping closer to the camera, Camina balled her fingers into tight fists at her sides. Slowly, she lifted one fist as she finished, "Beltalowda! We are strong, we are sharp, and we do not fear!" Dropping her fist, she instructed, "Come to us now, waste no time." 

With that, Naomi cut the transmission. Camina was breathing hard with feeling. Chrisjen watched her, realizing that despite the young woman's control over her emotions, there was a deep river of conviction behind her confidence. Eventually, the captain turned to her. 

Chrisjen said what was probably the most sincere, "Thank you," of her life. 

Dismissing the slight compliment, Camina said, "Don't thank me until they come." 

********************

The next hours were spent preparing themselves and their ships. Everyone was working. Both the Rocinante and the Razorback had been brought inside an engineering hangar. The Roci crew had managed to reequip all the ship's defenses. The rest of her systems were another story. Everyone worked tirelessly getting the ship's navigation, coolant, and electrical hardware and software up and running. After that, attention turned to the engine and reinforcing the hull. The entire crew rushed around through the narrow corridors, up and down the ladders linking the engine room, the command deck, and the rest of the boat. 

Well, almost the entire crew. 

Bobbie Draper had a boat of her own to take care of. Thankfully, it didn't need the level of repairs the Roci did. She had requisitioned a few of Tycho's engineers to help her replace the small missiles they'd used on the pinnace that was once used for racing. 

Now it was a gunship of its own. Albeit, the tiniest gunship in the system, still the Razorback was formidable, and it was hers. She'd never had to use its compact rail gun nor it's chaff countermeasures. Bobbie hoped she wouldn't have to use them in the confrontation ahead of them, though she didn't expect she'd get the Razor out of it without a few scratches. 

She'd spent hours checking and rechecking all the ship's computers and systems. It took far less time than a Corvette class like the Roci and she was grateful for that. It gave her time to do other things she wanted to do to the ship. Like now, as she took great care in going over the entire exterior with a microfiber cloth, carefully removing every fingerprint and trace of oil. Setting her face close to the stealth painted metal, Bobbie moved the line of her eyes slightly watching the light play over the surface until she saw an imperfection. She quickly wiped the cloth over it until the spot was perfect. 

Once she was finally done, Bobbie walked slowly around the ship. The sound of her mag boots was a quiet click... click… click. Reaching up, she ran her fingertips over the smooth surface. It surprised her, the way she cared so much for something as simple as a hunk of metal. Granted, a very expensive hunk of metal. But there were so many reasons that it was more than that to Bobbie. 

The small ship had saved her life on more than one occasion. It was reliable, like a friend that never let her down. Not once has the Razor broken down, or left her stranded. It had never limped its way back home, rather it finished every mission as strong as it began them, despite a bump here or a dent there. Not to mention, it was a gift from the most important person in the world to her. They'd spent a lot of hours together in the Razorback, she and Chrisjen. She loved the dynamic it brought to their relationship. Piloting the ship together forced them to work together like no other wheelhouse. They had to communicate clearly and concisely, they had to listen to one another and move together, and there was no room for apathy - all things that carried over to the lives they managed to completely intertwine together. 

"Should I leave you two alone?" 

Bobbie smiled to herself before turning to see the subject of her thoughts. Chrisjen was smiling back. She'd changed back into her flight suit and Bobbie still couldn't decide which look she liked better on the woman - the regal and embellished traditional clothing, or the work clothing that was always smudged with whatever she and Amos had been working on and seemed much too casual for the likes of someone so beautiful. 

Chrisjen's hands were in her pockets as she meandered over to Bobbie. The younger woman found her gaze pinned to the older, as she often did. When Chrisjen was around, nothing else mattered to Bobbie. At first, the sensation had bothered her. She remembered the first time they'd been aboard the Roci together. Her preoccupation with the Earther had annoyed her. She had never had such an instinct to protect a single person or a desire to be around someone and it perplexed her. Then one visit to Earth changed that. One kiss on a pier with ocean waves crashing around them and Bobbie understood exactly why Chrisjen's presence flustered her so. It was because she was undoubtedly, completely in love with Chrisjen Avasarala. The day she finally accepted that reality was the day she found peace with herself. The need to push and push and push, the constant pursuit of rank and the obligation of service to a cause she was never a hundred percent invested in melted away. She didn't care about a lifetime of training anymore. All Bobbie had wanted from that day on was to be with this woman. 

As Chrisjen walked up to her, she pulled her hands from her pockets and settled them at their customary place on Bobbie's chest at her collarbones. The soft smile remained on her face and it was impossible for Bobbie not to mirror it. 

Chrisjen quietly quipped, "Sometimes I think you care more about that ship than you do about me." 

Reaching to her waist, Bobbie pulled her close. In light of what they were about to face, she didn't feel like joking. "You know that's not true." 

"Good," Chrisjen replied, slipping her hands around Bobbie's neck until they were only a breath apart. 

Bobbie treasured this closeness, especially now. But now was also the time to focus, and that was something Chrisjen's proximity often managed to disrupt. Taking the smallest step back, Bobbie put at least enough distance between them so she could concentrate. The small hands at the base of her neck fell away and all Bobbie wanted was for this to be over, like Chrisjen had said earlier. 

Her mind turning to the upcoming battle, Bobbie asked, "You're with me in the Razor, yeah?" 

The content look faded from Chrisjen's countenance. "Of course." 

"You need to prepare yourself," Bobbie said, matter of factly. "This won't be like any other time you've been in her." 

"I understand that," Chrisjen said quickly. 

"No, you don't," Bobbie insisted, her tone strong. "You have no idea." Suddenly all the things that could go wrong rushed through her brain at light speed. "The Razor will be the smallest ship out there. One hit from anything will take it out." 

"Then we need to make sure we don't get hit." Chrisjen seemed so sure and, where it usually bolstered Bobbie's confidence, today it only worried her further. 

Pausing with a shake of her head, Bobbie practically whispered, "Maybe you should stay on Tycho." Her resolve was faltering and her protective instinct was taking over. 

Realizing the conflict happening inside her partner, Chrisjen stepped into her space once again. Taking her hands, she gently reminded Bobbie, "You need me to help you pilot." 

"Alex can-"

"The Roci needs Alex," she interrupted. 

Dropping her gaze, the Martian muttered, "Maybe I can fly her myself…" She trailed off at the feel of a hand on her cheek. She looked up to see the small smile on the Earther's face again. 

"I'm not leaving you," Chrisjen informed her. "You're fucking stuck with me." 

Breathing out, Bobbie felt the strangest mix of relief and panic. Her arms reached out and wrapped around Chrisjen's shoulders, drawing her into a tight embrace. Eyes shut, Bobbie fixated on the feeling of Chrisjen's body. The warmth it offered calmed her and the way they fit together was always reassuring, like they were created to be interwoven with each other. 

Pulling back, finally ready to prepare, Bobbie told her, "Alright then, we need to go over some things."


	8. To Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun chapter to write! We are nearing the end of our little adventure. Bobbie and Chrisjen head into battle with the rest of the crew, and don't get away unscathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are so many canon storylines I would have loved to touch on - Naomi/Marco/Phillip in particular. But this is a Chrisjen/Bobbie story, so we had to stay focused. Lol. 
> 
> There's a particular Chrisjen/Bobbie scene I've been looking forward to since the beginning of the story. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

It was all coming together. Every hour more and more ships arrived at Tycho. They came until the station was forced to begin directing traffic in the space around it. That only allowed for more room, which was quickly filled by more ships. Morale was running high as was activity aboard Tycho. 

It all reminded Bobbie of the atmosphere before going into the theatre of battle when she was a Marine. Everyone pumping each other up, telling one another all the reasons they would win and the other side would lose, prepping their gear, and making last minute checks. 

She and Chrisjen were on the Razorback. It was still docked alongside the Rocinante in a hangar on the station. Both women moved quickly about the narrow ship. Chrisjen checked and rechecked the software settings while Bobbie worked on the hardware, making sure every piece of her ship was prepared for optimal performance. 

As they shifted about, they had to move close to each other. Each time Chrisjen had to get by her, the tactile woman laid her hands on Bobbie's torso as she worked her way around her. Every touch distracted Bobbie. All she could think about was the situation they were about to fly into - the situation she was taking Chrisjen into. She couldn't shake the scenarios that ran through her mind, many of them dire. She'd considered trying to get Chrisjen to stay on Tycho again, but the woman kept making it clear that she was coming with Bobbie no matter what. So she decided she would simply have to do her very best in the fight. Take out some ships, possibly take out Marco themselves, save Earth, get back to Tycho. Fly fast, fly straight, don't get too close to anyone. Bobbie's brain focused on what she needed to do. 

Chrisjen's voice broke into her thoughts. "Alright, I think we're ready." 

Bobbie turned to meet her gaze. Her demeanor softened at the confident look on Chrisjen's face. She tossed the tool she was working with into the nearby toolbox and made her way past Chrisjen and to the back of the ship. She began tugging at the two vac suits that had been stowed in a tiny compartment.

Pulling them out, she looked at her partner. "Not yet. We need to look these over and make sure they're ready, just in case." She knew the suits would be a reality check for the other woman.

Chrisjen looked skeptically at the suits, clearly disturbed by the idea of having to use them. Slowly holding her hands out, she took one. Bobbie began to inspect her suit, searching for any tiny rips or tears that could disrupt the vacuum and suck her life giving oxygen away. Glancing up, she saw Chrisjen simply fiddling with hers. 

"Hey," Bobbie said. When the Earther looked at her, unsure, she asked, "What is it?" Eyes flitting between Bobbie and the vac suit, Chrisjen remained quiet. "Are you afraid?" Bobbie posed the question gently. 

With an almost imperceptible nod, Chrisjen replied with a simple, "Yes." 

Bobbie breathed out, her resolve faltering. Letting her suit fall to the floor, she walked over to Chrisjen and pulled the woman into her. She closed her eyes as her companion followed her movement and dropped her own suit, wrapping her arms around Bobbie. They held tightly to one another. The zero G environment on Tycho had them swaying slightly as each one cuddled as closely as they could. It struck Bobbie how well they fit together - how Chrisjen's curves came against her own, forming a perfect shape. The way the smaller woman's head tucked neatly at the crook of her neck so Bobbie was able to rest her cheek against that soft hair, like they were created with the other in mind. 

Exhaling slowly, Bobbie told her, "You know, you've had to use a vac suit before, and you're fine." Though she knew Chrisjen's fear went beyond the idea of having to use the suit. 

"That was different," she said against Bobbie's chest. "It was a split second decision." After a short pause, she continued. "Besides, if I died keeping you all safe, I can deal with that." Pulling back to meet Bobbie's eyes, she asked, "What if I die and Marco still succeeds? And what if you die because I dragged you out here?" 

Bobbie breathed out with a smile. "And here I keep feeling guilty because I'm the one that dragged you out here." 

"You wanted to stay on Luna," Chrisjen reminded her. "I'm the one that insisted we go with the others." 

"Yeah, but you only went because you knew I wanted to go," Bobbie countered. "So here we are." Her lips grazed Chrisjen's forehead. "Look, I make my own decisions, and I know damn well you do too. How about we both agree to let ourselves off the hook?" 

Eyes slipping closed, Chrisjen dropped her head against Bobbie's shoulder. The Martian pressed her lips to the Earther's hair. Chrisjen quietly said, "We've gotten each other through a lot." 

"Exactly." Bobbie ran her hands up and down Chrisjen's back. "We make a good team." 

Looking up to her, Chrisjen had an encouraging expression. Finally, pulling away from Bobbie, she picked her suit up off the floor and began to examine the seams. Bobbie watched her affectionately. Moving back to where her own suit lay, she retrieved it and resumed her own inspection. They silently finished looking over their suits and moved on to their helmets, then their oxygen tanks and tubing. They handed each other various tools needed to ready the suits. As they worked together, the heavy atmosphere lifted. 

Eventually, they hung their suits at the back of the small cabin where they would be easily accessible if needed. Bobbie took a last look around the ship. She couldn't think of another single thing that needed to be done. 

"You're right," she said. "We're ready."

Hands on her hips, Chrisjen was also looking over their boat. "Damn right we are." 

Just then, Chrisjen's handheld began to beep an alert. She found it and looked surprised. Showing it to Bobbie, the screen read New Message from Nancy Gao. Chrisjen tapped to open the message. Bobbie came around beside her to see. 

"Ma'am," Nancy began, respectfully. "I recently spoke with Caleb Ghazi." She paused, seeming unsure how to proceed. "We confirmed your story. Our satellites found the operation in Deimos. Mr. Ghazi said you aren't sure of the timeline, but it seemed soon." She stopped again, swallowing thickly. "I have to admit, I'm not sure how to handle this. Per his advice, we've begun arranging evacuation, but I don't need to tell you that it is an impossible task." Chrisjen nodded at the screen agreeing. "But we will do our absolute best." Her expression changed when she said, "He also told me what you and the Rocinante crew have gone through to uncover this plot and what you are doing now." Nancy took a breath. "Ma'am, I want to apologise. I could only see my own opinions and never considered yours. I thought you were trying to hold on to the power you had over this planet, but I see now that everything I thought about you was wrong. You and your crew have put your lives on the line for Earth. Thank you." She finished with, "Mr. Ghazi said you promised the faction leaders a place in the IPA. I give you my word I'll do everything I can to make that happen, and I'll do everything I can to save as many as possible." 

With that, the message ended. The hand Chrisjen was holding the device with was shaking. Bobbie gently took it from her, setting it down. She put her hands firmly on Chrisjen's shoulders, forcing their eyes to lock. 

"Listen to me," Bobbie told her. "We're going to succeed. Earth will go on and Marco Inaros will not. Do you understand me?" 

Chrisjen gave her a hard look. With a slow nod, she answered, "Let's get this son of a bitch." 

********************

A short time later, all the major players were in the large Tycho conference room. Chrisjen and Bobbie, the Roci crew, Fred and Camina, along with various faction leaders. 

"How many ships do we have?" Chrisjen asked. 

"Hundreds," Camina answered. 

It was more than any of them expected and it gave their side more than a fighting chance. 

"We rally in one hour," Fred told them all. "We'll move out toward Deimos. That's when the moon will be closest to our position." 

"I'll send out the message," Camina replied. "Let's go." She left with the other faction leaders, and they all dispersed back to their ships. 

********************

"You two be safe," Alex said over the comms. 

"We will, and you too," Bobbie responded. "We'll see you on the other side of all this." 

Amos broke in over the audio. "Chrissy, if anything happens to the Martian…" he joked. 

With a smile, Chrisjen replied, "It's you and me." 

Bobbie chuckled. "I'm not going anywhere," she said. "And stop calling her that!" Though this time when she gave the rebuke, her tone was light hearted.

"See you ladies soon," Amos told them. With that, Bobbie turned off the channel. 

She checked the thruster readouts. They were holding steady, moving with the rest of the fleet. The radar display was unreadable, dotted with hundreds of tiny green blips. She didn't mind it. All those blips were allies, something they'd been in short supply of until recently. It felt good to be a part of a larger unit. 

The armada moved through space together, led at the front by the Belt's premiere battleship, Medina Station. It was an intimidating sight and Bobbie knew Marco would feel a check in his heart when he saw it. The Razorback and the Rocinante were side by side. They would remain so until forced to separate. 

Bobbie and Chrisjen had settled in for the long stretch from Tycho to the red planet's moon. They hadn't talked much, but now that the trek was coming to an end, both women were perking up. Adrenaline was beginning to move through their systems as they drew closer to their target. Bobbie kept rechecking the displays on her panels, waiting for something to change. Chrisjen would occasionally begin humming some tune from Earth and it was a comforting sound. She was playing with her own displays and Bobbie could see the tiny changes her copilot would make in the plasma relay or coolant system, or how she would pull up a new navigation chart. More than anything, Bobbie felt a security in knowing the other woman was with her. 

Suddenly, Bobbie heard a familiar, quiet beep. Looking at her displays for the hundredth time, she inhaled slowly. There it was. Their first red dot. 

"We're here," she said. Tapping the camera button, Chrisjen's face came into her second screen. "You're ready?" 

Confident as ever, Chrisjen winked at her. "Of course." 

Bobbie knew that despite the exterior bravado, inside Chrisjen's heart was as anxious as her own. Still, the slight smile on her face encouraged Bobbie. 

"You know," Bobbie said, wishing she had the time and boldness to say everything she wanted to the other woman, "whatever happens-"

"I know," Chrisjen interjected. 

And Bobbie knew she did know. One of the things she adored about Chrisjen was that she didn't need to be affirmed. There was no desire to have her ego stroked. She didn't want anyone to say something just for the sake of saying it. So all the times Bobbie struggled to get words out only to have them stick in her throat, Chrisjen was always understanding. She had often told the young woman that actions speak louder than words and Bobbie hoped, no, she knew, that every time she tried to speak through soft touches that Chrisjen heard every word. 

Just then, Camina Drummer's voice came over the comms to the entire fleet. 

"This is the Belt's Armada," she said with the typical strength in her tone. "Remember what we are fighting for. We are fighting for our reputation, and for our rights to be heard and to stand beside every people group in the system. Archangel gave us this opportunity, but it is up to us to take it. We will defend Earth, not for them, but for us." 

She paused at the same time more beeping hit Bobbie's screen. Marco's fleet. Their green dots were creeping close to his red ones. 

Camina continued, "There they are. It is time to unite! We are the Belt!"

With that the communication ended and she watched her sensors to see several ships fly ahead of her, anxious for the battle. There was no turning back now. Eyes pinned to her scanners, Bobbie watched as green and red collided and intermingled. The time had come. 

"Give me power," Bobbie said evenly. 

Only a second later, her copilot responded with, "Go." 

Bobbie punched the accelerator, sending them hurtling forward with the rest of their comrades. Before she knew it, they'd crossed the threshold and were surrounded by enemy ships. Thankfully they weren't alone. Through the exterior lenses, she saw explosions as Medina began to fire on the other ships. A few moments later, smaller Belter gunships began following the Razorback into action. 

Keeping one hand wrapped firmly around the joystick between her knees, Bobbie waved her hand to bring up the holographic display. She tapped to open the defense system. 

"Get ready for some jolts," she warned. 

Using her target lock, the Razor locked into a small ship. It speedily identified it as an enemy by eliminating all the saved transponder information. Camina had been sure that every ship in their armada sent out it's transponder codes to avoid friendly fire during the fight. Seeing the all clear, Bobbie mashed the button to fire the Razor's small rail gun. 

Gazing out one of the exterior lenses, Chrisjen confirmed, "The volley went straight across their bow." 

A second later the corresponding explosion lit up the inside of the Razor's small cabin. Moving on, Bobbie continued to target the smaller ships, knowing that's where the Razorback's more compact defenses would do the most damage. 

Thankfully, their boat's small frame made them a difficult target to hit so they were more free to maneuver between the larger ships. Bobbie rolled them over the hull of one larger ship, then hit the gas, rushing for the smaller gunship ahead of it. Target lock again. She fired the railgun straight into the engine nozzles. The plasma ignited and Bobbie yanked the joystick back, sending the Razor above the explosion. 

She breathed out hard, swearing she felt the interior temperature jump as they sailed over the fire. She was tense and sweating. No time for distraction. Bobbie wiped the sweat from her brow quickly and looked back to the sensors. 

"Get ready for a sharp turn!" She called out. 

Pulling the brakes, Bobbie turned the pinnace on its nose and dove between two larger ships. She hoped the Razor's maneuverability was irksome to the enemy, like a bug they couldn't squash. They could spend time simply weaving in and out of the fleet, drawing fire and even forcing them to fire on each other.

Breaking clear of the crowd of ships, Bobbie watched as an incoming volley came at them. She heard several small pings of metal hitting metal. Eye widening, realizing they'd been hit, Bobbie sought Chrisjen's face on the camera. She was busy tapping away at her console. 

"Got it," Chrisjen said. She looked into the camera at Bobbie. "I had to shut down one of the relays, but we should be fine." 

"Speed?" Bobbie question. 

Chrisjen shrugged one shoulder. "Guess we'll find out." Bobbie was irritated and amused at the same time with the answer. Guess they'd find out indeed. Then, still fiddling with the controls, Chrisjen said, "Fly like always. I'll take care of it." 

With a nod and complete trust, Bobbie punched it again. The ship responded as dependably as ever, and Bobbie glanced back to see her copilot using two hands to manually manipulate the controls, giving her every milligram of plasma she could. They continued on, moving quickly throughout Marco's fleet. 

"Holy, fuck." Chrisjen's surprised voice was quiet with wonder. 

Bobbie looked at the camera and followed Chrisjen's gaze out one of the small lenses at her starboard. She saw the freighters they had been looking at the day before, the ones that looked completely unimpressive. Each one was lining up alongside enemy ships. The cargo bay doors opened and dozens of Belters poured out of each boat, all wearing vac suits. Bobbie watched as they pounced on to the outer hulls of the fleet and began tearing the ships to shreds from the outside. It didn't take long until their handiwork spelled doom for the afflicted ship. Their thrusters were gone as were their defense systems. The Belters promptly jumped back into their freighter just in time for one of their comrades to blow the boats to hell. Unfortunately, one of them didn't make it, but the other two would repeat the process until the battle was over, or they all met the same fate. 

"Crazy fucking bastards," Bobbie breathed out. "Bravest thing I've ever seen." 

Suddenly, another ship crossed beside them, blocking Bobbie's view and bringing her mind back to the task at hand. 

"We're running low on ammo," Chrisjen told her. 

She'd been waiting for the warning. They'd been firing like crazy. Time to change tactics. They only had six small torpedos and would have to make the most of them. 

"Let's stick to playing with the smaller ships," Bobbie told her. "We'll engage stealth and wait for them to come to us." 

They quickly moved to a more open spot on the sensors. Tapping a few buttons, Bobbie turned on their Martian stealth tech and waited. It was incredibly uncomfortable. A few seconds turned into a minute. A drop of sweat made its way down her temple. She kept her eyes pinned to the readouts, waiting for one of the enemy ships to venture to close to what seemed like a safe spot. She was also watching as the fighting continued while they stayed undercover. Then, a red dot floated closer. Bobbie flipped open the red button cover on top of the joystick. 

"Wait," Chrisjen said. "A few more meters. We can't risk missing and hitting one of our own." 

Bobbie agreed with a tight nod. The ship floated closer. She waited, thumb poised over the red button. 

"Chris?"

"Now." 

Bobbie jammed her thumb to button, releasing the missile. It flew true, crashing into the enemy vessel and once again lighting up their small cabin. 

Voice even, Chrisjen informed her, "Multiple bogies incoming." 

"Guess they're tired of us messing with them." Bobbie smirked. "Hold on." Pushing the joystick forward, she quickly moved the sleek pinnace out of the line of fire. "Going dark." She engaged the stealth cover once again. 

The missiles lost their lock and Bobbie was surprised when they collided into one another. The force of multiple missiles exploding together slammed into the Razor and jostled the boat violently, tossing the gimble about that connected their chairs. Bobbie fought to keep her steady. Thankfully their tech stayed engaged. The fleet couldn't see them. The gimble evened and their seats settled upright again. 

"You okay?" Bobbie asked as she glanced to the camera. Chrisjen was breathing heavily. Despite the anxiety, the woman nodded. "Alright then," she put her hand back on the joystick. "Let's play a little cat and mouse, see if we can't draw their fire." 

She reached up to push the button and disengage the stealth. Then she moved the ship swiftly through the fleet. It worked. Several ships fired at them and Bobbie hit the gas once again, surging out of the way. She was satisfied when the ships fell victim to friendly fire. She engaged stealth again. 

Just then, Camina's voice came over the comms. "Every ship in the Tycho Armada - target the large freighter in the center. It looks like the fleet is protecting it." She closed the comm link. 

"Open a tight beam to Medina," Bobbie instructed. 

A second later, Chrisjen replied, "Open." 

"Drummer," Bobbie spoke, "Bobbie Draper on the Razorback." 

"What can I do for you, Martian?" Camina's even voice replied. 

"We can go stealth and get close to that freighter," she told the Belter captain. "But I don't know where to blast it." 

The tone of Camina's timbre became serious. She answered quickly. "At their stern. One of the exhaust nozzles is smaller than the others. It connects directly to their primary plasma tank." 

"Shoot 'em up the ass," Bobbie said. "Understood. Razorback out." 

"Draper!" Camina called into the comm. "We think Marco's on that ship." 

Looking to the camera, she met Chrisjen's gaze. "Understood," she quietly responded. 

Pausing to collect all her focus, Bobbie shot toward the middle of the dwindling fleet. The freighter Camina spoke of was impossible to miss now that many of the other larger ships had been eliminated. She reengaged stealth and slowed, approaching the ship. The Razor glided past it, working toward the stern. Working the controls skillfully, Bobbie put the Razor in position. 

"I'm going to fire and punch it," she informed her co-pilot. "Get ready to be thrown into that seat." 

"Roger that," Chrisjen said. 

Breathing out, Bobbie used her systems to lock onto the spot Camina told her about. Time to end this, Bobbie thought. 

Barely above a whisper, Bobbie said a simple, "Firing."

She pressed the button, releasing a missile that launched toward the huge freighter. Not waiting to see whether it landed, Bobbie accelerated quickly. The explosion would no doubt be massive and they needed to get clear before too much debris crashed into them. Both women were pressed backward from the fast G's. Bobbie felt her back melting into the seat. 

"Direct hit," Chrisjen told her. 

Their eyes met again through the camera. They didn't say anything. They didn't have to. A direct hit to a primary plasma tank would surely take out the ship, and Marco with it. They'd done it. Despite the force of their movement, both women smiled at each other. They smiled until it turned into a light chuckle. Bobbie and Chrisjen looked at each other disbelieving. It was finally over. 

Then, out of nowhere, Bobbie felt herself being hurled to the starboard side of the cabin. She gasped. Something hit them, hard. The gimbal locked in place, disorienting her. Alarms began to sound all over the cabin and red warning lights began blinking. Frantically, Bobbie pulled up her readouts. The holographic screen lagged and then froze. 

"Shit," she hissed. This was bad. "Chrisjen?" 

As she said the name, Bobbie was already unbuckling her harness. She untangled herself from it and turned to look at the co-pilot's seat. Chrisjen's display was still working and Bobbie watched as she used both hands to navigate it. She didn't need Chrisjen to tell her something was wrong. All the red lights glaring back from the console told her what she needed to know. Breathing hard, Chrisjen looked at her, distraught. 

"There's a coolant leak," she said. "It's gone, all the coolant is gone." 

Without coolant, the engine would run too hot. And not just too hot, unmanageably hot, so hot it would keep getting hotter until the racing engine exploded from the inside out. Bobbie locked her eyes on her companion and allowed herself approximately five seconds to be afraid. Five… four… three… two… one. 

"Alright then, we don't have a choice," she said. "We have to abandon ship."

She moved quickly toward Chrisjen. Leaning in, she unhooked the harness with practiced speed and pulled the woman up. The two began to move to the back of the cabin, where their vac suits had been prepped and were now waiting. Bobbie mashed the comms console on the wall near them. It didn't respond. She punched it. Nothing. No way to contact anyone. 

"Fuck," she muttered. 

Her heart was racing. It was getting hot. She snatched the vac suit from the wall. While she slipped her legs in she glanced to Chrisjen, who was struggling to get into her suit. Her hands were shaking too much. Quickly sliding her arms into the suit, she gave it a yank until it was in place. Then she grabbed Chrisjen's shoulders. 

"Hey," she said, trying to sound calm against her heavy breathing. When Chrisjen seemed like she didn't hear, Bobbie spoke more forcefully. "Hey!" Chrisjen's eyes shot to hers. "I need you with me!" She was almost shouting over the alarms in the cabin. Chrisjen blinked and took a breath. "You with me?" When her companion nodded and began to steady her breathing, Bobbie gave her an encouraging smile. "We can do this." 

She talked Chrisjen through getting into the vac suit. Despite that she'd done it before, she was obviously terrified of the idea of walking out into open space in the midst of a battle. Bobbie didn't blame her. However, she'd never been more thankful for her military training. She had always been rock solid and fear had never gotten the better of her before. She certainly wouldn't give into it now, especially not with the woman she loved depending on her. 

Less than two minutes later, Bobbie was grabbing up a tether line. They were both sweating from the rising temperature in the Razor. Moving as swiftly as she could, she clipped it to Chrisjen's suit and then wrapped it around a few times, repeating the action on herself until they were fastened together. She put her hands on either side of Chrisjen's helmet. 

"Listen," she told her, voice still elevated. "The Razor is still moving pretty fast. When I open that door, it's going to suck us out with a lot of force." Taking Chrisjen's arms, she wrapped them around herself. Then she engulfed Chrisjen as tightly as she could. "Do not let go of me, understand?"

Chrisjen could only reply with a muffled, "Yes."

Reaching behind Chrisjen, Bobbie carefully turned the airlock door, holding the Earther fiercely with the other arm. When she'd only turned the locking wheel halfway, the vacuum of space took over. The door was thrown open and they were pulled out into space at breakneck speed. 

Bobbie's mind went crazy with confusion. Her body was tumbling. If she opened her eyes, all she saw was space twirling furiously. Her brain caught sight of the fleet for a millisecond, then another millisecond, then another as she flipped end over end. Then she registered an explosion off to her side. The Razor. She couldn't catch her breath and tried to suck in air. Then she heard a sound, a desperate noise. Focusing on it, Bobbie began to come to her senses. Chrisjen. 

"Bobbie!" Chrisjen was crying out. She sounded so scared. "Bobbie!" 

The cries became clearer until Bobbie finally snapped out of her stupor. She found that she and Chrisjen were joined only by the tether. Chrisjen was flying through space alongside her, reaching out. Bobbie grabbed the line and began to pull against the G's with all her might. She grunted with the effort, towing the rope hand over hand over hand. Finally, the other woman came near enough to latch onto Bobbie's shoulders. But they were still cascading, rolling directionless. Chrisjen couldn't hold on. 

"Bobbie!" She called out as her grip slipped. 

"Chrisjen!" Bobbie shrieked, terrified at the sight of her slipping away. 

She tried to grab on to her, but her fingers missed by only inches. Desperate sounds came from Bobbie's throat as she scrambled to find a grip on the line. Suddenly the tether caught, jerking at Bobbie's waist and she was afraid it would break. Looking down the rope, Chrisjen was secure on the other end, though the more they rolled, the more the tether twisted. 

Bobbie began the process of pulling her in again. This time she wrapped the line around her hand as Chrisjen got closer. The other woman maneuvered her arms around Bobbie's shoulders. Squeezing her abdominals, Bobbie swung her hips inward and wrapped her legs around Chrisjen. Finally, they had a hold on one another. 

Panicked sounds were coming from Chrisjen. She had to get them out of this roll. Daring to take a hand off her, Bobbie reached for her oxygen controls. She hit the button to release a small burst of the gas. Feeling them slow slightly, she did a longer burst. Needing to push them the other direction, she adjusted to push at Chrisjen's tank controls. A couple of bursts from the other tank and they began to steady and slow. 

Both women were breathing hard, white knuckled grip on the other as they began to simply float. Bobbie cautiously opened her eyes. She looked over them both, pushing Chrisjen back slightly to inspect the tether.

Chrisjen exhaled, "Don't let go of me." 

Bobbie met her frightened gaze. With a firm grip on her shoulders, she replied, "Never." Relaxing a bit, she said, "But I need to look us over." 

With a tight nod, Chrisjen loosened her hold, though she didn't let go. Bobbie looked all over the both of them. No tears in the seams and no rips in the fabric, no oxygen leaks or cracks in their helmets. Unbelievable, Bobbie thought. 

Looking her in the eye again, Bobbie asked, "You okay?" 

At the question, Chrisjen's expression slowly morphed into amusement. "Are you fucking kidding me?" 

The tiniest laugh escaped Bobbie. The grin faded quickly though. Glancing all around them, trying to get her bearings, Bobbie saw what she was looking for and let out a frustrated, "Shit." 

Hand firmly gripping Bobbie's arm, Chrisjen turned to see what she was looking at. In the far distance lay the tiny dots of their armada. They barely made out a small explosion here and there but they couldn't even tell which side was which. They were so far away, too far. 

"It's alright," Chrisjen said, as if sensing her thoughts. "They'll find us."

Bobbie stopped herself from correcting the woman. There was no way their friends would find them. For long minutes, they stared in the direction of their allies. The longer they stared, the smaller the dots became as the distance between them lengthened. There was nothing they could do to stop their momentum in the nothingness of space. Rather, Bobbie and Chrisjen only floated farther and farther into the expanse. 

********************

Hours passed. 

Long hours. 

It was so quiet. Quiet wasn't even quite the word to explain it. Quiet almost seemed like maybe there was sound, it was simply muted. But this was overwhelming silence. There was no soft humming from an engine or distant clang from a tool hitting metal on another deck. There were no settling noises or even the vibration of air moving through the pipes. 

The vastness was alarming. Chrisjen knew they were moving, but there was no point of reference for her to know how far they had gone or how far they had to go, or how fast they were traveling. 

Then there was the cold. She had her arms wrapped around herself, hugging her body for warmth. Each exhale carried a touch of fog which was quickly snuffed by the oxygen system in her suit. Before they'd been ejected from the Razorback, they were sweating terribly. Now, in the coldness of space, their damp clothing made the icy temperature feel even more uncomfortable. Chrisjen shivered against it. 

She felt the pull of the tether connecting her and Bobbie. The Martian had readjusted and reinforced it. It was tied around them both twice and clipped into two anchor points on their suit rather than one. She had redone it as both of them started to fatigue and holding on to one another became difficult. Now each one was floating at either end of the line. 

They hadn't spoken in a while, both alone with their thoughts. Chrisjen's fear had subsided some time ago. Now, thanks to their ordeal and adrenaline still in her veins, she was left with nagging heightened senses, which was torturous considering senses were useless in space. She glanced at her oxygen readout. Forty-eight percent. They still had time. 

Taking a slow breath, Chrisjen tried to further calm herself. Her mind meandered all over the place. She thought about Earth, about Arjun and Charanpal and all the things that went wrong. She thought about her grandson and the opportunity she still believed she had to make things go right. Her thoughts drifted to her career - the good things she'd done and the bad things she'd done. She considered the times she wished she had done something differently and the times she was sure she got it right. Particular events passed from the back of her mind to the front. She would linger in one memory before moving on to another. 

Pulling herself from the recollections, Chrisjen checked her air levels again. It was fine, she told herself, they still had time. She tried to find something more optimistic to think about, asking herself what the first thing is that she would do upon her return to Mother Earth. The first thing she thought of was food and how she missed home cooked meals. The next thing she thought of was bourbon and she practically felt her mouth water. She thought about her bed and soft blankets. God, she missed soft things.

"I love you." 

Suddenly, Chrisjen's thoughts ceased. Her eyes slipped closed and a slow close lipped smile formed on her lips. It was a beautiful sound, the words she'd been waiting almost a year for. Bobbie's hushed timbre and smooth accent made it all the more savorable. 

The words had come out of nowhere, as Chrisjen always knew they would for Bobbie. Her young Martian was impulsive, had been since they met. She knew Bobbie would torture herself over not saying the three small words and then one day they would just come tumbling out. That was Bobbie. Granted, this was not the situation Chrisjen has envisioned hearing them.

Turning to meet her companion's gaze, Chrisjen came eye to eye with the single most remarkable person she'd ever met. Bobbie looked so unsure and so confident at the same time, and Chrisjen knew exactly how she felt. She had felt the same way when she told Bobbie the same thing that night on the roof of her house. 

Finding her voice, Chrisjen quietly quipped, "Now you tell me." 

Bobbie smiled. "Better late than never." 

Wrapping her fingers around the tether holding them together, Bobbie gave it a gentle pull. Chrisjen found herself moving toward the young woman. They came together, helmets bumping slightly. Chrisjen gripped her shoulders, resenting the fact she couldn't touch Bobbie. Being able to see the flecks of gold in the chestnut color of her eyes would have to do. They watched each other, gazes pinned, and Bobbie held her close. 

Bobbie told her, regretfully, "I had to say it. I can't die without telling you what you mean to me." She suddenly looked as if she might cry. "And you mean everything to me. I love you more than I thought I was ever capable of." Her hands came to either side of Chrisjen's helmet. "I love you so much the idea of being apart from you hurts." 

Chrisjen felt familiar butterflies swell in her chest, like she often did when Bobbie said something unexpected. But there was one thing she said that stood out. "What makes you think we're going to die?" She asked, tone steady.

Lips slightly opening, Bobbie's brow furrowed. "Chrisjen, I love that you believe you can beat anything, but…" 

"They'll come." Chrisjen believed it with all her heart. 

"We don't have much time left," Bobbie emphasized. 

"We have enough." Lips quirking into a half smile, Chrisjen told her, "Besides, you promised me." Bobbie still looked perplexed. Looking at her, Chrisjen reminded Bobbie, "You promised that I would die in your arms, under Earth's warm sun." 

Bobbie breathed out, closing her eyes, she allowed her helmet to fall forward until it leaned against her lover's. "Chrisjen…" 

"Shhh," Chrisjen encouraged her. "Save your oxygen." 

Bobbie obeyed and they fell silent again, only this time they didn't release each other. Chrisjen held on to her, relentlessly refusing to let go, even has her oxygen meter dropped and dropped and dropped until she found herself getting sleepy. She opened her eyes one last time to see Bobbie's closed. 

"Bobbie?" She whispered, unable to speak any louder. 

She tried to reach for the other woman's air sensor, but she was too tired to move. Too exhausted, and her head dizzy, she found it impossible to keep her eyes open. The last thing Chrisjen saw before her eyes finally closed was the dark hull of a ship slipping beneath them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness. Did everyone catch the Season 5 trailer? So exciting!


	9. Making Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrisjen fulfills her obligations and gets several steps closer to home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I could button the whole story up in one last chapter, but it looks like we will be getting a crazy fluffy epilogue.

A far away voice… at least that's what it sounded like. Maybe it was close? It was completely black all around her. All Chrisjen could comprehend was the sound of her own breathing. Suddenly, she realized that it wasn't dark, her eyes were closed. Her senses were returning and she felt a grip on her shoulder. 

"Avasarala!" The voice was getting closer. "Time to wake up." 

Struggling to open her eyes, Chrisjen fought the wooziness. She tried to move and the firm hand that was at her shoulder shifted to tighten around her wrist. Barely squinting once, she regretted it due to the splitting headache it caused. Hissing with the pain, she closed her eyes again. 

"Eh, Avasarala," the voice said. "The discomfort will pass. Your oxygen levels need to even out." 

Sucking in deep breaths through her nose, she found the voice to be right. As the air moved through her bloodstream, the dizziness and headache began to subside. Chrisjen hazarded to open her eyes again. Slowly blinking, she was met with a dark rimmed gaze, a cocky grin, and a messy braid. Camina Drummer. 

"Welcome back," the Belter captain said. 

Chrisjen returned Camina's hold on her wrist, grasping the woman's slender forearm, overcome with relief. Her vac suit had been removed and she was laying on the deck of a ship in her flight suit. She gradually became aware of the cold, metal floor underneath her. After so many hours in space with no gravity, everything felt disorienting. Her free hand began searching for the tether that had been around her waist, but it wasn't there.

She managed to exhale a labored, "Bobbie." 

"The Martian is fine," Camina replied. She tilted her head and Chrisjen followed the direction.

Bobbie was sitting on the floor, back leaning against a bulkhead. Another Belter assisted her with an oxygen mask. Her barely conscious eyes were hooded with exhaustion. However, she had enough strength to stretch her hand across the floor toward Chrisjen. With a grunt of effort, Chrisjen came wobbly to her knees and released Camina. She summoned the small amount of energy left in her and crawled toward Bobbie, collapsing next to her. Arms around her, she gently drew Bobbie into an embrace, thankful when she didn't resist. 

Reaching to tug off the mask, Bobbie whispered, "You okay?" 

Chrisjen nodded. "Yes. How do you feel?" She tightened her grip around Bobbie's shoulders. 

"Like I got hit by a spaceship," the young woman joked. Chrisjen smiled a little against her hair. 

Camina knelt down next to them. "Your oxygen was at two percent," she told Bobbie. "You're lucky." 

"She burned a lot," Chrisjen told Camina, "getting us out of a roll when we abandoned ship." Bobbie straightened herself, coming out of Chrisjen's hold, never wanting to appear fragile. The older woman understood and simply left a hand on her shoulder. 

The three of them stayed there on the deck, the captain letting the two women rest. Chrisjen and Bobbie let their weight fall against the wall, both weak from their ordeal and unable to do much more. Camina watched them. 

"Look at this," the captain said slowly, considering them. "An Earther clinging to a Martian, both sought out and rescued by a Belter. Ironic, isn't it?"

Still only able to speak quietly, Chrisjen jested, "The beginning of a bad joke." Camina chuckled at that. Then Chrisjen said more seriously, "Maybe a picture of things to come." 

With a more gentle look, the Belter replied, "Let's hope so." She looked them over. "Can you stand?" 

Chrisjen glanced to Bobbie, who nodded slightly. When all three stood to their feet, Bobbie winced in pain, wrapping a protective arm around herself. 

"What is it?" Chrisjen asked, resisting the reflex to touch her too much, knowing the public display would bother her. 

Breathes coming short, Bobbie answered, "Looks like I bruised some ribs when we ejected." 

"Come," Camina said. "Let's get you two back to the Rocinante." 

They began to walk slowly down the corridor, away from the airlock they'd been pulled from. Chrisjen couldn't believe how relieved she was to be inside. The impromptu space walk had done nothing to change her mind about space. She wanted to go home more than ever. 

Bobbie asked, "How'd you find us?" 

"The Roci was still monitoring the vitals on your vac suits." She gave an encouraging look. "We took the last position of the Razorback and tried to calculate which way you would have been thrown. We sent several ships in different directions to be sure, but we were the ones who picked up the signal from your suits."

Chrisjen gripped her arm again. "Thank you." 

In what seemed her typical fashion, Camina didn't acknowledge the thanks. Instead, she looked somberly at the two of them. "Marco is dead." 

The Earther and Martian exchanged a look. "You're sure?" Bobbie asked. 

Camina nodded. 

"Then it really is over," Chrisjen stated. 

"Not yet," Camina noted. "You still have a promise to keep."

Chrisjen gave her a nod and a close lipped smile. "Indeed, I do." 

Turning her attention to Bobbie, Chrisjen slipped an arm lightly around her, trying not to add to her discomfort. She was surprised when Bobbie leaned into her slightly, allowing Chrisjen to take some of her weight against the pain in her torso. She draped an arm over Chrisjen's shoulders, settling into the shorter woman, still holding the other arm around herself. 

They made their way down the hall, both women anxious to get back to their crew and thankful to be alive.

********************

Chrisjen watched as Naomi examined Bobbie's injuries. She was leaning with her back against the wall, arms crossed loosely over her chest. She couldn't take her eyes off her Martian, nor could she keep the gentle smile from her countenance. 

Out of all the things they'd been through together, they'd just escaped what was certainly the most extreme. Chrisjen couldn't remember the last time she felt more peaceful. She was alive. More importantly, the love of her life and her friends were alive. Oppositely, the system's greatest enemy was dead, and Earth was safe. The Roci had escaped the battle with nary a scratch. If the Razorback was their only casualty, Chrisjen could most definitely cope with that. 

"You need to rest and let the meds heal you," Naomi told Bobbie. 

"Don't have to tell me twice," Bobbie replied faintly. 

The entire episode had drained Bobbie far more than Chrisjen had initially thought. The zero gravity of space had covered the pain of her cracked ribs and the low oxygen and sapped her energy. Now, safe aboard the Roci, Chrisjen suspected it wasn't just the last day that had Bobbie so tired, but that having the weight of these last weeks finally gone had allowed her to drop the constant exterior presentation of strength.

Naomi checked the med sleeve one last time and then went to exit the medical bay. She gave Chrisjen's shoulder a supportive squeeze on her way out. Once she was gone the two women looked at each other across the room. Pushing off the wall, Chrisjen took languid steps to the med chair Bobbie was reclining in. Perching herself at the edge of it, she combed her fingers lightly through her partner's dark hair. They stared at one another, happy to be alive and together. 

"Go ahead," Bobbie told her, "I know you're dying to say it." 

Chrisjen smiled affectionately, appreciating how well the young woman knew her, and she would definitely take the opportunity to say it. "I told you so," she said. 

"Of course you did." Bobbie chuckled lightly with a wince.

"I knew they would come," Chrisjen said confidently. "The Sol isn't done with us yet." 

Gripping her hand, Chrisjen leaned closer. She pressed the softest kiss at the corner of Bobbie's mouth, then another at her bottom lip. There was a flutter in her stomach at the gentle pressure of Bobbie kissing her back. She thought back to floating through that endless sea of black, never for a second believing that was the end for them. Chrisjen couldn't believe that after a lifetime of compromise and measured expectation, when she finally found someone who made her feel the way this Martian made her feel, that the universe would tear them apart. Nothing else mattered any more. There was no conspiracy, no war, no part to play. She was free to take Bobbie and run wherever they wanted. 

"Say it again," Chrisjen quietly requested. 

She knew Bobbie knew exactly what she meant. The young woman slipped a hand to her cheek. Her thumb traced the outline of Chrisjen's bottom lip as she glanced over her features. Chrisjen already saw the words in her eyes and felt it in her smooth touch, but she couldn't deny how the sound spoke to her. 

"I love you," Bobbie said, surely, and Chrisjen appreciated how effortlessly it came.

Pressing her lips together to keep from smiling too big, Chrisjen easily said it back. "I love you, too." 

They gazed contentedly at one another until Bobbie joked, "God, we're like an old married couple." 

Laughing, Chrisjen dropped her forehead against Bobbie's. She kissed her happily. They stayed there in the medical bay until enthusiastic kisses settled to gentle ones and Chrisjen ran her fingers through Bobbie's hair until she finally fell asleep. Watching her, Chrisjen felt like she saw her whole life in front of her. Begrudgingly, she stood. With a last light kiss to Bobbie's forehead, she left. She had a meeting to get to. 

********************

Bending her elbow, Chrisjen allowed the wrap of her sari to drape over her arm. She touched her hand to the pristine twist in her hair, making sure it was tight. With a deep sigh, she opened the airlock door to exit the Rocinante. She'd never been so tired in all her life and the thought occurred to her that she might sleep all the way back to Earth. Shaking herself a bit, Chrisjen tried to focus on one last task aboard Tycho Station. 

As she stepped off the Roci and onto the Tycho flight deck, she grinned slightly when she was met by Camina. The tiny, yet fierce woman had her hands clasped behind her and Chrisjen was encouraged by the friendly look on her face. 

"I thought I could walk with you," Camina said. 

"I'd welcome the company," she replied. 

The two fell into step together, making their way toward a large conference room where they would come up with a way to give every faction in the Belt representation with the inner planets. It would be a feat and no one was quite sure yet how they would accomplish it. Though Chrisjen had an ace up her sleeve, and that ace happened to be walking right beside her. She knew Camina Drummer was the key to making all this work. She just had to help the young Belter see it. 

After a short silence between them, Camina asked, "You said this Gao gave her word. Will she keep it?" 

Chrisjen narrowed her eyes slightly, thinking. "If we give her the opportunity not to, she'll take it. Which means we need to get to Luna as quickly as we can and press them while global sentiment is with us." 

Camina nodded slowly. She looked at Chrisjen. "If you were still Secretary General, would you keep your word to the Belt?"

Exhaling, she thought. "Before the protomolecule," Chrisjen said. "Before the Rocinante and her crew..." 

"Before the Martian," Camina interjected with a knowing smile. 

Returning it, Chrisjen agreed. "Yes, before the Martian." She paused, feeling a pang of guilt from the past. "I would have avoided keeping a commitment to the Belt if I didn't think it served Earth's interests," she answered honestly. 

Shaking her head, Camina's voice became firm. "How can the inners not see that allying with the Belt, making us equals, would only benefit them?" 

"Earth resources are scarce and Mars doesn't yet have the capability to mine more than a fraction of their own resources," she tried to reason. "Our history with the Belters is to give them barely enough to survive and expect them to give us everything. It's not right," she stated. "I can't change that history. All we can do is alter its present course." 

Taking a deep breath, Camina told her, "I don't know how many factions will accept that answer."

"They won't accept it," Chrisjen said. "At least, not from an Earther." 

Camina stopped in her tracks, eyeing her suspiciously. "What are you saying?" 

Chrisjen turned to face her. "An Earther could never unite the factions of the Belt." She watched as Camina dropped her gaze, catching on to Chrisjen's meaning. "You are the most respected Belter in the system." 

"No." Camina met her eyes with a hard look. "No." 

"Why?" She asked eagerly.

"I'm not a politician," she answered. 

"Well," the older woman responded sarcastically, "that would actually probably work in your favor." 

"I am not the person for this job." Camina's breathing picked up. "Klaes Ashford," she said the name reverently. "He could do this." 

"Ashford isn't here," Chrisjen said, voice slightly elevated. "But you are." She stepped closer to the small woman, who promptly stepped back. The Earther wasn't giving up without a fight. "Thousands of Belters brought hundreds of ships to fight with us because you called them." She pointed firmly at Camina. "You can lead them. The factions will unite if you ask them. The captain of the Belt's premiere battleship, the hero who led the fleet that saved Mother Earth." 

Camina looked at her, mouth slightly agape, searching for a retort. "I was only doing my job." 

Chrisjen smirked, knowing that such a weak response meant she'd gotten her hooks in. "Well, your job just got bigger." 

Hesitantly, the Belter slowly replied, "I wouldn't know where to begin." 

A slow half smile formed on Chrisjen's lips. "Now that I can help with." 

********************

The hum from the Roci's engines was steady and quiet. A soft light illuminated the small room, coming from a lamp Chrisjen had brought from her home on Earth. Bobbie had thought it to be one of the more silly things she'd insisted on bringing into space, but now that she had experienced it versus the ship's harsh lighting, she was glad to have it. She liked the glow of Chrisjen's skin under the easy luminescence. 

The blankets were tangled between them. Clothing was strewn about their tiny cabin. They hadn't been disturbed in hours and it was glorious. The trip back to Luna had been happily uneventful and they were taking full advantage of it. Bobbie had been kissing Chrisjen endlessly since a perfect orgasm had shot through her some time ago. She was kissing her everywhere, slowly, taking her time because she didn't get to take her time with her lover often enough. 

Despite the fact that Chrisjen was the toughest person she knew, Bobbie loved that she had the softest body. She loved the curves of her hips and the hourglass shape of her torso. She loved her Earther's broad chest and was constantly surprised at the perfection of her breasts aside from her age. Bobbie adored her long neck and the way Chrisjen always wanted to touch her. Like right now, how her deft fingers were entwined in Bobbie's hair, lightly scratching at her scalp. Even though public displays weren't always comfortable for her, that certainly didn't mean that she didn't want the contact. In fact, she wanted it all the time. 

Coming to kiss her lips, Bobbie melted into her. Shifting, she lay over Chrisjen, allowing their bodies to meld into one another. Gently pressing the tip of her tongue to Chrisjen's bottom lip, she welcomed the mild tingles that came when the silk of her lover's tongue touched hers. They kissed deeply, pouring themselves into the connection, like they always did. A hushed moan came from Bobbie's throat. She was unable to hold back how Chrisjen affected her. 

Their lips separated with a perfect, small sound. Bobbie nuzzled her nose at the crook of her companion's neck. She couldn't stop her mouth from making contact. Chrisjen felt so good and this was the most peaceful time they had in so long, since before the election, if Bobbie thought back far enough. After that night, it had been a whirlwind - straight to Luna where she'd rendezvoused with the Roci crew and begun their search for Marco apart from Chrisjen, then there was the explosion on Luna. Bobbie still remembered that high G trip like it was yesterday. She'd never been so afraid. It had been weeks since they all left Luna together - weeks of space travel, close calls, a few too many risks taken, and too many near death experiences. There was no way Bobbie would turn away from the gift of time alone with her Earther after so much madness. 

Laying her head down at Chrisjen's shoulder, she breathed out across her chest. Sure arms wrapped around her and Bobbie closed her eyes, content in the warmth Chrisjen's body offered. The corner of her lips quirked slightly when she caught the faint sound of her lover's heartbeat against her ear. 

As Chrisjen stroked her thumbs between Bobbie's shoulder blades, she lightly asked, "Did you see the look on Amos's face when he caught us in the corridor?" 

Bobbie chuckled. "He looked like he couldn't decide whether to apologize or ask to join us." 

Chrisjen laughed and it sounded beautiful. Not wanting to miss it, Bobbie lifted her head with a grin to see a wide smile on the other woman's face, a sight she hadn't seen since they were on Earth. Moving off and beside her, Bobbie propped herself on an elbow. Chrisjen rolled to her side to face her, still smiling. 

Resting a hand at Chrisjen's hip, Bobbie observed, quietly, "You look happy." 

Covering Bobbie's hand with her own, she replied, "You make me happy." 

Bobbie glanced away as her cheeks flushed from the compliment. Looking back, she exhaled slowly. Moving her hand from under Chrisjen's, she raked her fingers into the woman's thick, dark hair, loving how her eyes slipped closed at the touch. 

Bobbie didn't want this to end. Part of her was afraid it would. Not today, or tomorrow, or even when they got back to Earth, but one day. One day, Chrisjen was sure to wake up and realize the Martian wasn't good enough for her. Perhaps Bobbie would start to bore her or their differences would just become too much, but she couldn't believe that she would be able to hold on to this woman forever. 

As her insecurity crept in, she shyly asked, "What happens after Luna?" 

Chrisjen lazily opened her eyes again. "What?" 

"After Luna," Bobbie repeated. "What happens after that… with us?" 

Smiling softly at her, Chrisjen's eyes brightened and Bobbie knew the woman was reading her mind. She leaned in and kissed Bobbie fully and the Martian laid on her back, Chrisjen's comforting touches making her melt into the thin mattress. 

Pulling back slightly, Chrisjen asked, "You're not having one of your ridiculous bouts of doubt, are you?" 

Bobbie breathed out a grin. "You caught me." Holding her close, she added, "It doesn't feel ridiculous." 

"Well, it is," Chrisjen shot back, though her expression was empathetic. "Whatever you think it is that's going to separate us, it won't. I know you and I love you anyway," she joked and Bobbie gave a small laugh. More seriously, Chrisjen said, "Even more so, you know me and you love me anyway." They smiled at one another and Bobbie pushed a lock of hair behind the shell of Chrisjen's ear. "Bobbie, I wouldn't have let things go this far between us if I didn't intend to be with you for the long haul." 

"Long haul?" Bobbie asked hopefully. 

"Of course," she confirmed. "Honestly, out of the two of us, I'm the one that should be insecure." 

"I'm sorry," Bobbie said with a hint of sarcasm. "Explain that logic to me." She didn't have to wait for Chrisjen to speak, knowing she would only bring up the age gap between them. 

"I'm old enough to be your moth-," Chrisjen paused, correcting herself, "your grandmother." 

Raising her eyebrows, Bobbie joked. "Is that it? There must be more? That can't be your only point." Chrisjen narrowed her eyes and the Martian continued, "Because I hope you don't think I'm so shallow that a few wrinkles would put me off." 

Countenance softening, Chrisjen said, "Of course I don't think you're shallow." 

"Well good." Bobbie relaxed, drawing the woman back in to herself. "Because it's your age that makes you so insanely attractive to me." She kissed her lightly on the lips. 

Ignoring the kiss, Chrisjen asked, curious, "What in the world do you mean?" 

Bobbie looked at her, taking her in for a moment before responding. "Chris, you are the most intelligent, deeply emotional yet steady, compassionate, experienced, kind, and drop dead gorgeous person I've ever known." Then it was Chrisjen's turn to blush, and Bobbie continued. "I bet you weren't all those things twenty, or thirty, or forty years ago. All the things I love about you are things that came over time. I can't imagine being with you any other way than you are now." 

"Bobbie..." she tried to interrupt. 

"No, I'm not finished," Bobbie said solidly. "I don't care about lines around your eyes, and I don't care about the loose skin at your belly, and yes, I see how you try to use your clothes to hide it and every time I do I can't believe it's even a thought in your mind. I don't care how old you are. I love you this way." 

She hoped she said it honestly enough for the other woman to believe her. After all, it was the honest truth. 

Finally, Chrisjen quipped at a whisper, "I was more drop dead gorgeous forty years ago." 

Bobbie laughed and reached her hands to Chrisjen's face. "I don't believe it for a second." She pulled her in for another kiss. 

But Chrisjen couldn't let it go. "What happens when my hair goes grey and I'm frail and elderly?" 

"I have a feeling you'll never let your hair go grey," Bobbie jested, drawing a chuckle from the other woman. "As for being frail, I don't think that's a word that will ever be applied to you. And as for the insinuation that you'll become less attractive the older you get, I don't foresee that scenario playing out at all the way you think." 

Knitting her brow, Chrisjen continued to try and trap her. "What if I can't keep up with your physical desires?" 

As the questions kept coming, Bobbie realized that there was a deep well of fear inside Chrisjen. She couldn't believe all these thoughts had been in her head and how fully she'd convinced herself that Bobbie would leave her one day. 

She softly answered, "We'll figure it out," she assured her. "Couples have to figure things out all the time, right?" 

Chrisjen nodded, though she looked more unsure than Bobbie had ever seen her. The insecure look surprised her. She sat up, hands going back to her lover's soft cheeks. Stroking her thumbs over perfect skin, she held her gaze. 

"You listen to me," Bobbie told her. "I want to be with you… always. Nothing is going to change that. Not how you look, not anything having to do with sex, and definitely not your hair." Chrisjen looked at her against the tears glistening in her eyes. "If you need me to tell you that every day, I will. You tell me constantly what I mean to you, and you tell me constantly why. I can certainly do the same for you, especially if it gives you more faith in us." 

Speaking quietly, Chrisjen asked, "When did you get so sentimental?" 

"I've always been sentimental," Bobbie said. "It was just hard to say it until I saw you tumbling through space with nothing but a flimsy rope keeping us together, and I was terrified I was going to lose you." 

With a sniffle, Chrisjen slipped her fingertips under her eyelids, ensuring no tears fell. She let out a ragged breath and exhaled a shaky laugh. "Thank you," she sighed. 

"Always," Bobbie told her. "Now come 'ere." She laid back down, pulling her Earther with her and tucking Chrisjen into her side, holding her close. "We're almost there and you need to get some rest." 

Chrisjen settled into her, and sleep came easily to them both. 

********************

Stepping onto the flight deck at Luna felt like the last mile in the longest journey home. Finally, a place where things looked familiar and she didn't constantly need directions. Chrisjen was confident no matter where she was in the solar system, but something about being back on United Nations soil, so to speak, boosted her surety even more. After all, if she could kick ass in the Belt, she could certainly do it here. 

As she strode toward the inner hallways of the lunar body, Chrisjen was flanked by her entourage. She insisted every member of the Rocinante's crew accompany her to meet Nancy Gao. Though Amos had offered resistance, one firm look from the woman and he agreed. Thankfully, the others came willingly. Along with them were Camina Drummer, Fred Johnson, and a contingency of about twenty Belter faction leaders. Camina had done a superb job convincing them to come. It had been an undertaking, choosing only twenty leaders from the entire Belt considering there were hundreds of factions, each one with its own sub factions. The task had been completed quickly and would no doubt be an ongoing process, but if they wanted to ensure UN cooperation they couldn't get too greedy.

The large group paused as they were met by their UN security detail. A familiar face was at the front of them. Chrisjen's lips parted with a tiny gasp as she saw him. 

Suddenly forgetting her swagger, she quickly walked up to him, arms extended. He returned the gesture and they gripped one another's hands firmly, stepping into the other's space, as comfortable as ever with each other. 

"Caleb," she greeted with a bright smile. "It is so good to see you." 

She meant it genuinely. Being able to thank the man who'd saved her life in person had been high on her list of things she wanted to do when she got back. Not to mention, she wanted to see how his injuries had progressed. She was glad to see him standing before her, no wheelchair, or any assistance. 

"Madam," he returned. "It's good to see you too." He wore a warm expression and she thought to herself that it was the best welcome home she could have received. "I'm glad you made it back in one piece." He glanced at Bobbie, who was at Chrisjen's side, like always. "You too, Martian." 

"Likewise," Bobbie said with a slight grin. Their banter immediately in place, she joked, "Glad you're out of that damn chair. I've been looking forward to a sparring session." 

With a chuckle, he replied, "I'm not quite ready for that, but you're definitely top of the list of people I'd like to hit in the face." 

Trying to hold a straight expression, Bobbie involuntarily let out a short laugh. Caleb released Chrisjen and gave Bobbie a firm handshake. 

"Well," he told them, "if you're ready, I'll take you to her." He looked over the group. "All of you." 

"Thank you, my friend," Chrisjen said.

She fell into step easily with him, taking the arm he offered as he had often done in the past. She didn't miss the limp he walked with, something she suspected may always be with him considering the severity of the injuries he'd sustained shielding her during the blast. A guilty sting came over her and she took a sideways look at him. Still, somehow she knew he was made of the same stuff as his brother, Cotyar Ghazi, and ultimately probably would've been pissed off if he hadn't been able to be the hero. With that thought, she smiled softly at him. 

They made their way through Luna, and Chrisjen knew they must be a sight to behold. The former UN Secretary General with her personal ragtag salvage crew, along with a couple dozen Belters, marching through Luna Station. People stopped and stared, clearly puzzled, and she was glad for the attention. They needed it. Chrisjen wanted everyone to know they were there, and why they were there. It was time that Earth finally gave the Belt its due. 

They came to two large double doors. Putting her hand on the knob, Chrisjen paused and looked at Camina. "I know this will be difficult for you," she said, "but let me do the talking." 

Camina grinned, clearly recalling when she'd said something similar to the older woman. "Gladly." 

"You ready?" Chrisjen asked her. She gave her an encouraging smile and the young Belter gave a small nod in response. 

Opening the door, Chrisjen summoned her game face. As she and her company poured into the room, Chrisjen was satisfied at the unsure look when she met Nancy Gao's eye. Nancy wasn't alone. It appeared she had brought half her cabinet. She even recognized some of the players. 

"Madam Avasarala," Nancy said, "It's good to see you." She took a few steps closer and offered a hand. 

Focusing on her former rival, Chrisjen softened at the sincere expression on her countenance. Allowing her self assured persona to falter just a bit, she took the offered hand, encouraged at the gentle, yet firm, grip she was given. Nancy's lips quirked ever so slightly and Chrisjen returned the look. Maybe there was a future for this alliance after all, Chrisjen thought. 

Suddenly, her gaze was drawn to what was behind Nancy - a large observation deck. Mouth agape, Chrisjen wordlessly walked past her and up to the large window. Momentarily forgetting her purpose there, she was overcome. 

Breathing out a long exhale, chestnut eyes settled on the most beautiful sight. Earth, spinning only a couple hundred thousand miles away. So close. She observed the bluest blue she'd ever seen as the Indian Ocean slowly passed beneath her. She saw the outline of her ancestral continent and remembered how much a part of her this planet was. Unconsciously, Chrisjen placed a light hand on the glass as if the movement would somehow get her closer to her home. The thin wisps of easy cloud systems hovered high above the waters, looking like stretched out cotton and her heart soared. The cradle of humanity, safe. It had been far too long since her feet had touched the sacred ground of Earth. 

From the corner of her eye, she saw Nancy slip beside her. Coming to herself, she removed her hand from the glass and stood up straighter, realizing how whimsical and silly her longing for Earth must seem to someone who doesn't appreciate it the way she does. But then Nancy caught her off guard. 

"This is the most special place in the galaxy," Nancy said. Chrisjen looked at her, struck at the adoration on the woman's face as she gazed at the massive blue marble. "It doesn't matter how many habitable systems lay beyond the Ring Gates. There will never be another Earth." Chrisjen nodded slowly. Nancy took a breath and lightened her tone. "And now it's safe, thanks to you." 

At that statement, Chrisjen remembered every reason she was here. "No," she replied firmly. "Not thanks to me." 

She took slow steps back toward her Belter following. They all looked so anxious, like this may all be an ambush and they were being led to the slaughter. She couldn't blame them. They'd never been given a reason to trust Earth. Hopefully today would change that. Quickly glancing at each of them, Chrisjen tried to communicate a calming expression. She came side by side with Camina. 

"Thanks to her," Chrisjen said with a tilt of her head to the Belter captain. "And to these brave souls." She indicated the Belters and the Roci crew. "Earthers, Martians, and Belters all coming together."

"Of course," Nancy corrected herself. 

"And to the thousands of Belters who fought together," she finished, lifting her voice. 

As if on signal, the group of Belter leaders gave a united howl of agreement. It made Nancy flinch just enough and Chrisjen hoped the woman realized they meant business. 

"Yes," Nancy said. She walked to the conference room table and retrieved a data pad. "We've written a plan to repay the Belt for this favor." 

She sent a file to Chrisjen's handheld, who looked at it with brow furrowed. Opening it, it didn't take long to flip through the holographic pages. Increased food shipments, some old derelict ships, room for two representatives in the IPA. No, this would not do. She handed it to Camina, who also hastily made her way through. They exchanged a skeptical look. Camina simply handed it back to Chrisjen, who promptly put it away. Nancy looked perplexed.

Chrisjen gave Camina a nod to take over. Taking a breath, Camina unclasped her hands from behind her. She slipped her own device from her pocket. 

Moving toward Nancy, she said, in her typical cocky fashion, "We have a more comprehensive plan we'd like to present." She swiped it to Nancy, who slowly opened it, clearly not expecting the play. 

"Well, I'm sure we can come to a compromise of some sort." 

"No compromise," Camina said. "It's a fair plan for doing you this… favor, as you call it."

Lips parting as she read, Nancy looked at them disbelieving. "You want twenty-one spots in the Inner Planetary Alliance?" 

Camina nodded. "It would comprise thirty percent of the seats." 

Nancy tried to evade. "I just don't think-"

Chrisjen quickly interrupted. "Do you know why Belters have neck tattoos?" Nancy looked dumbfounded at the question. Chrisjen raised her eyebrows and asked again. "Do you?" 

"No," Nancy glanced at the group of tall, slender people. 

They looked so foreign standing here among the UN's political leaders, their tattered clothing and work worn skin next to such seemingly prestigious types. Surely Nancy must see them as scoundrels, Chrisjen thought, but how wrong that assumption was. These were honorable people fighting to survive in the hostile world Earth and Mars created for them. Now that she understood the injustice, Chrisjen simply couldn't allow it to continue. 

"Allow me to enlighten you," she began. "When Earth and Mars began shipping their citizens out to the asteroid belt, we gave them the best of everything because they were our family members and our friends, and of course we needed what they were providing for us. But as time passed, we forgot about the people out there on those rocks and all we cared about were the resources they sent back to us." 

Nancy tried to interrupt. "I don't see how what happened generations ago-"

"It's important that you hear this," the former Secretary General said, stopping her. Pursing her lips, Nancy gave her a tight nod. "Thank you." She took a breath and continued. "It only took one generation passing before the inner planets changed their perspective on the people in the Belt. Once people began being born in the Belt, once they began to develop their own culture, their own distinctions, their own desires, the inners began seeking to control them. One way they did this was by passing along used gear to them. This gear was often faulty." 

Chrisjen walked over to Camina. The young Belter smoothly handed her a data pad and she made her way back to where Nancy was standing. Chrisjen pulled up images of older vac suits from Tycho Station. She'd captured the images just before they left as she and Camina had been figuring out how to pull at the UN's heart strings. Showing the images to the Secretary General, Chrisjen softened her voice. 

"These are some of the vac suits we've been sending to the Belt." 

She swiped through the images, letting Nancy take in the ripped fabric and rusted oxygen tubes. Many of the helmets had cracks in the visors rendering them useless without extensive repair. Several had exposed wires. This is what Chrisjen wanted to point out. 

"Do you see this wiring?" Chrisjen asked, tone easy, truly hoping she was conveying the gross negligence. Nancy nodded. "Most of what they were given had issues like this." Wrapping her fingers lightly around her own neck, she explained, "The neck piece that connected the helmet to the rest of the suit would overheat. It would get so hot it would burn the user. Of course, when they were mining in open space, they couldn't remove the helmet nor turn off the suit, so they simply had to endure it. It was extremely common and left the vast percentage of Belters scarred."

She swiped through the images again, showing Nancy several photographs of the scarring left on the necks of faithful Belters. Glancing to the woman's face, she saw the sympathetic expression. 

Chrisjen finished. "These scars became a symbol of the oppression and apathy the Belt received from the inners." She walked back to the group. "But they are a resilient people." She watched the Belters stand tall and barely nod at the statement. "They took these scars and enfolded them into their own emerging culture." 

Camina came to stand beside Chrisjen, addressing Nancy. "When you see us, you see people less than human." Her strong voice carried a commanding tone that couldn't be ignored. "But we are the same people. We have the same ancestors, and it is time for you to welcome us." 

"Nancy, they saved our planet," Chrisjen said. "They saved us all."

That was it. It was the end of their argument. There was nothing else to say. This had to be enough. Chrisjen and Camina stood there, backs firm, staring at Nancy, waiting. They had talked about this earlier, about staying quiet, letting the silence stretch out while Nancy faced the guilt of generations of marginalization. It was up to her to initiate the change. 

The seconds began to pass, moving into awkwardness. Chrisjen was momentarily afraid it might not have been enough. Maybe appealing to Nancy's compassionate side wasn't the right call, maybe they should have come in, guns blazing, instead touting the Belt's up and coming military. 

But then, Nancy slowly walked toward the conference table and picked up her handheld. Tapping a button, she spoke to someone on the other end. "We're going to need more chairs in here." 

Both Chrisjen and Camina breathed out with relief. The Earther could practically feel the release of tension from the group behind her. Turning to her new comrades, she walked toward them. They all exchanged victorious smiles. She couldn't believe one of the proudest moments in her political career was spent surrounded by Belter faction leaders, shaking hands and receiving pats on the back that bordered on too hard, though she didn't mind. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught sight of Camina Drummer and Nancy Gao exchanging the first of what promised to be many handshakes. 

Soon, the double doors opened and aides began wheeling more chairs into the room. Within minutes, they sat around the large table. Nancy insisted they begin by fully reviewing Chrisjen and Camina's plan. 

"Let me start by saying the most inadequate thank you I've ever said," Nancy told the group. "The United Nations of Earth are beyond grateful." 

Of all the times Chrisjen had expressed her gratitude to Camina only to have it brushed over, she was surprised when the Belter gave a sincere, "You're welcome." 

As Camina launched into an overview of the documents, Chrisjen glanced over to see the crew of the Rocinante filing out. Since they were no longer needed, and the entire idea of politics made them all cringe, she understood. She caught Bobbie's eye before the door closed. 

********************

Hours later, Chrisjen was meandering down the hallway that led to her apartment on Luna. She hadn't been there since they'd all left together in search of Marco. She had decided to go by and grab a few things she'd missed before heading back to the Roci for one last night. 

"I'll wait for you here," Caleb told her as they reached the door. 

"Thank you," she said. "I'll just be a minute." 

With a hand on the knob, she reached for her handheld to swipe and unlock the door. However, she was surprised to find the knob turn. It was unlocked. Pushing the door open, Chrisjen grinned as her gaze fell on Bobbie, comfortably reclining on the sofa, reading something on her device. She glanced up with a warm smile that Chrisjen easily returned. Hand still on the knob, she watched her, loving how she was so at ease in Chrisjen's environment. 

Accustomed to the sight of the two women staring at one another, Caleb said, "I guess you don't need an escort back to the flight deck." 

Starting a bit, she'd already forgotten he was there. "I guess not." 

"Goodnight, ma'am," with a polite nod, he waited until she was inside with the door closed and locked. 

Exhaling, Chrisjen relaxed with her back against the door. She took in the sight. It seemed like a dream. Maybe they had been out in space too long and she'd forgotten what it was like, being domestic. The picture of coming home from work to the woman she loved seemed long ago. 

"My beautiful Martian," she said to her in a hushed voice, realizing how much time had passed since she last said it. 

Bobbie put her device down on the table and rose from the sofa. She had grown more comfortable with the term of endearment, even slightly quirking her lips as she approached Chrisjen. Eyes slipping closed, she welcomed the feeling of Bobbie's hands sliding around her torso, drawing her close. They nuzzled into each other. The front of her body brushing against Bobbie's, along with the idea of a soft bed, was enticing. Even more enticing was the gentle kiss that came at her cheekbone. Unconscious of the movement, Chrisjen shifted ever so slightly until their lips met. 

She'd never melted into a kiss like she melted into this one. It was slow and smooth and carried promise with it. After all, they'd passed Mars on the way to Luna. If Bobbie had wanted to leave, she would have done it then. But she was here, holding Chrisjen tightly, causing the usual warmth to spread through her. 

Pulling back, Chrisjen told her faintly, "You know, I was only coming here to get some things and then I was going back to the Rocinante." 

Bobbie looked amused. "Really?" 

"I figured that's where you'd be." She kissed Bobbie again, fingers finding their way under her shirt and splaying over the warm skin of her back. 

"Are you kidding," the Martian replied. "I'm so tired of that damned bunk." 

Chrisjen smiled against her lips. "It was almost an instinct," she said. "If the Roci is nearby, it's like that's where I'm supposed to be." 

With an affectionate look, Bobbie nodded her agreement. She stroked her thumb across Chrisjen's cheek. "It's the instinct to be with the people you care about, your team, your squadron," Bobbie said, and Chrisjen distinctly heard the tone she used when she was saying more than just the words coming out of her mouth. 

"Yes," Chrisjen responded. 

The next thing she felt was nimble fingers in her hair, tenderly pulling pins and ties until her dark locks fell free and Bobbie's hands raked through them. She found herself being gently led from the door through the living area. Bobbie's lips sought hers again and she met them with fire. They kissed fervently and Chrisjen couldn't hold back the languid moan that came with each kiss. 

Their breathing picked up and Bobbie spoke to her between kisses. "I care about the others." She bent to suck lightly at Chrisjen's pulse point for just a second, long enough to stir her belly and steal her breath. "But you are the one I want by my side," Bobbie said, voice airy with need. Tugging easily at her thick hair, Bobbie tilted Chrisjen's head, placing kiss after kiss at her neck. "You are the only teammate I need," she breathed against her lover's skin. "The one I want to go into battle with." 

The wrap of her sari fell to the floor and Bobbie hurriedly began to work the fabric off her. It seemed as if Bobbie's perfect lips were everywhere, igniting her skin with want. She needed this. 

"Fuck, Bobbie," Chrisjen huffed, her core beginning to throb with desire. 

One more searing kiss that tied her in knots and Chrisjen was getting desperate. She pulled Bobbie's shirt off her and began working the button of her slacks. At the same time, Bobbie was pulling pins from her elaborate clothing and yanking the fabric around and off. 

Chrisjen couldn't tell if she was dragging Bobbie or Bobbie was pushing her but they quickly ended up in the bedroom. Clothing was shed along the way. Chrisjen felt so light, burdenless, for the first time in what seemed like decades. She couldn't think of a better way to spend the feeling than making love to her Martian. 

Her back gently settled on the plush comforter and it was so inviting. Shoulder blades sinking into the softness and head reclining against a deep pillow, it was divine. Bobbie seemed to appreciate it as well. Their pace slowed and they spread across the bed, kissing each other, holding each other, changing positions and simply enjoying each other. 

Tomorrow would be spent tying up loose ends. After that, it was just the two of them, but tonight was for tender caresses and deep kisses.


	10. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We have come to the end of our little story. Chrisjen says her goodbyes. She and Bobbie finally get the time together they deserve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I got to the final scene, I couldn't stop typing. Lol! If you are a fluff bunny like me, you'll enjoy. If not, well, sorry.

Chrisjen loved Earth. She always had. She loved every corner of the world she'd ever been to. Earth had more beauty to offer than any other planet in the Solar system, and Chrisjen would dare say in the universe. Nothing she had seen from beyond the Ring Gates convinced her differently thus far. 

If one were to go to Mars, they would be struck at the sameness of its terrain. Red rocks and sand everywhere you might look. You could search in every direction and, aside from an occasional mountain or valley, it was more of the same. No trees, no water, no color, no vivacious life. It was barren. But Earth was full of life, ecosystems still beyond understanding, creatures thriving in the most extreme conditions. In fact, humanity could be compared as such. 

Chrisjen realized better than most that Earth's social systems were broken, and had been for over two centuries. Yet, humanity persisted. They always found a way to prosper, to expand. The odds were stacked against Earth after hundreds of years of neglect, but they had managed to turn their planet around. It was impossible to undo the damage done, but they had taken responsibility for their home and found ways to at least slow and, in some cases, halt the destruction. And when the growing population threatened to overtake the planet, they had innovated and learned to survive off planet. Not only off Earth's surface, but on the surface of other planets and orbiting bodies. 

Truly, humanity was a marvel. Chrisjen didn't just love the world itself, she loved its people. They were resilient and strong. Of course, she didn't always see eye to eye with many of them, but they were always worth fighting for. 

Nothing made her appreciate their differences, nor kindled her desire for peace between all of humanity more than seeing her beloved home planet from space. As much as she hated space, she certainly admired the view. It gave her a sense of what really was at stake. 

"There is something inviting about it." 

The statement brought Chrisjen from her thoughts. She smiled, recognizing the voice and turned to see Camina only a few steps away. 

Shifting to look back out the huge window of the observation deck, Chrisjen settled her gaze on Earth again. "I would love to show it to you sometime." 

The Belter came to stand shoulder to shoulder with her, taking in the sight. "I can see it just fine from here," she replied. "Though with your powers of persuasion, you could probably convince me."

Chrisjen laughed lightly. "No, you are a Belter through and through," she said. "You'd hate it." 

"Like you hate space." 

Lifting an eyebrow, Chrisjen emphatically stated, "I do fucking hate space." 

Then it was Camina's turn to laugh. "Could have fooled me, Earther," she said with a grin. "The way you flew through the Belt in that pinnace with the Martian." 

Smiling easily at the young woman, Chrisjen pulled her attention from the planet floating outside the window. She'd been staring at it for almost an hour, dying to get home and somehow resisting the urge to leave Luna. Maybe she was getting more comfortable away from the soil's surface. 

She and Camina began walking through the maze of Luna's hallways. They didn't have too much to say. After all, they'd had dinner together the previous evening and talked late into the night. The captain, newly turned diplomat, had a thousand questions for Chrisjen, not to mention a thousand doubts. Patiently, Chrisjen spoke to each one, assuaging her fears and bolstering her confidence. She firmly believed Camina Drummer was the right person to unite Earth and the Belt. She definitely didn't mind taking the time to convince Camina. 

"Are you leaving today?" Camina asked. 

With a nod, Chrisjen answered, "Yes, soon." She still had a few goodbyes to say. "You?" 

"Yes," Camina breathed out. "Fred Johnson and I will begin our campaign to bring peace in the Belt, and not just a cease fire between Belters and Earth, but a real alliance." 

"That sounds wonderful." 

"I heard you took Gao's offer," Camina said with a smirk. 

Not missing a beat, Chrisjen responded, "Of course I did. Did you think you'd be rid of me that easy?" 

With a chuckle, Camina said, "I'm glad I won't be. And as a special liaison to the Belt, I'm sure our paths will cross often." Lowering her voice, she admitted, "Which is good. I believe I will need your ongoing counsel." 

As they had wrapped up their talks between the UN and the Belt, Nancy had personally asked Chrisjen to be the official go-between for the UN and the Belt. Considering her newfound loyalty to the Belt and to Camina, she couldn't refuse. Also, the idea of being a part of bringing peace to the system after a career of wreaking so much havoc brought a redeeming comfort to Chrisjen. 

"You'll be just fine," she told Camina. "You're strong, you care, and you don't take anyone's bullshit." 

They continued to walk to the flight deck where Chrisjen would board a shuttle for Earth and Camina would board one back to Medina. Chrisjen found herself thankful for the opportunity to continue their collaboration. 

As they walked, the Earther noticed Camina's steps becoming labored and stiff. With a hand at her shoulder, Chrisjen quietly asked, concerned, "Is the gravity finally getting to you." 

Attempting to straighten herself, Camina gave a tiny nod. Despite that Luna was only kept at fifty percent gravity, it was enough to aggravate Camina's deep spinal injuries. 

"I'll be fine," she replied, never wanting to seem vulnerable. 

Removing her hand, Chrisjen confirmed, not only talking about the pain, "I know you will be." 

They came to the flight deck, where they would each go separate ways. Taking a breath, Camina clasped her hands behind her back and stood tall. "I guess this is where we say goodbye." 

Looking slightly amused, Chrisjen said, "Don't sound so sentimental. We have a meeting in six weeks on Medina, remember?" 

"I look forward to welcoming you aboard." 

"Until then, I'm only a tightbeam away," Chrisjen told her. 

With that, the two women exchanged a warm look. They turned, separating, and Chrisjen already looked forward to seeing her new friend again. 

********************

Wandering through the narrow corridors on the Rocinante, Chrisjen walked slowly. She listened to the unhurried click... click... click of her mag boots. Her fingertips grazed along the smooth, metal walls as she walked. She was surprised how much she missed the gunship already. Well, not the ship itself, but rather the memories that came with every nook and cranny. 

In this particular hallway, the one that led from the crew quarters to the command deck, there had been many daily exchanges of good morning and good night. There had also been many make out sessions that started in this hallway. Chrisjen's lips quirked at those memories. As she came around the corner onto the command deck, her eyes settled on the large console in the center. They'd all had so many conversations there. She'd gotten into it with Naomi on more than one occasion around that console. Her small smile stayed in place as she thought about how far the two of them had come. 

Hearing a muffled curse from the cockpit, Chrisjen's gaze was drawn upward. She moved across the deck to the ladder that led to the pilot's seat. Pulling herself up the ladder easily in half gravity, Chrisjen popped over the cockpit deck. 

Alex turned in her direction with a warm smile. "Well, hey there," he greeted casually. "I was wondering if you might make your way over before you left." He sat up, putting his tool down. 

"Of course I made my way over," Chrisjen replied. "I'm going to miss this hunk of junk." She knew the insult would get a rise out of the Martian. 

He pointed a finger jokingly at her. "You watch it now." Alex grinned. 

"What are you working on?" She asked, shifting closer, now always curious about the ship's inner workings.

He turned back to the cockpit control panel. "Ah, a bunch of stuff got shorted out in the battle. Just tryin' to get her wired back up." His countenance becoming sympathetic, he said, "Hey, I'm sorry about the Razor." 

Chrisjen brightest at that. "Oh, I have something already in the works to address that." 

His eyebrows lifted. "I wouldn't expect any less." He added knowingly, "Whatever it is, she'll love it." 

They talked for a few more minutes before Chrisjen made her way back down the ladder, back across the command deck and down another ladder. She found herself on the engineering deck. It was easy to find who she was looking for. One only needed to follow the sound of tools banging loudly to find Amos. 

Sparks and blue light filled the corner as he welded together some patchwork. Chrisjen pulled something from her pocket and tapped it firmly against the metal railing. Amos heard the clang and stopped his welding. Pulling his mask up, he turned around with an irritated expression, though the look melted away when he saw who had interrupted his work. 

Pulling the helmet off, he laid it down with the welder. "Hey, Chrissy," he said, more quietly than she expected. "Guess you came to say goodbye." 

She looked at him affectionately. Chrisjen wasn't sure what motivated the sentiment she had for Amos. Maybe it was his fierce loyalty or his work ethic. There was something innocent about him that she appreciated. He couldn't care less about politics or rules. He only cared about his people, his family. She was lucky enough to have become one over the last months. 

"I come bearing gifts," she told him. 

She handed him the object she'd used to get his attention. He took the shiny, new nine millimeter wrench with a chuckle. "Thanks," he said sincerely. 

"Well, you keep breaking them with those big muscles," she commented, reaching into the pocket of her slacks. "I figured you could use some extras." She pulled out three more, handing them over. 

He took them, but without the light hearted reaction she expected. Instead, he blinked and stared at them in this hand. His jaw clenched. It was unmistakable on such a usually stoic face. Amos was getting emotional. He opened his mouth to speak, but only closed it again. Unable to make eye contact, he looked around, anywhere but at Chrisjen. 

She understood. This kind of thing was difficult for Amos. Not wanting to press him, Chrisjen didn't force him to respond. Instead, she gently made her way up to him. Lifting her arms around his broad shoulders, she wordlessly pulled him into a hug. He didn't hug her back. He stood there in her arms, gripping the wrenches tightly. When she began running light circles on his back, he finally let his head fall against her shoulder.

It wasn't only her feelings for him she didn't understand, it was his for her as well. She knew Amos had never really had a mother. Maybe he saw her as such. Maybe he'd simply never had an older friend. Either way, the comforting effect she had on him was obvious. Before she left, she wanted him to know that she cared for him. Wrenches were the only thing she could think of. 

He pulled away from her and she released him without question. Roughly wiping his eyes, he eventually looked back at her.

All he said was a mumbled, "Thank you." With a soft smile, she turned away and let him return to his welding. There was one more thing she had to take care of. 

Quickly making her way back to her, now empty, quarters, Chrisjen grabbed the last remaining object. A small duffle. She made her way to the mess hall where the crew ate at least one meal together every day. It was a small space and it forced them to be close, often forcing them into honesty as well. The command deck wasn't the only place she and Naomi had gotten into it. 

Coming into the room, she took the few steps to come in front of the cabinet. Opening it, she saw exactly what she expected. They were dangerously low on coffee. With a content look on her face, Chrisjen opened the duffle. It contained bags and bags of ground coffee that she'd managed to secure on a transport from the surface that morning. She stuffed them into the top cabinet until it was completely full. Then she put the remaining bags in the bottom. James would be pleased, she thought. 

Turning to leave, she was startled to see Naomi standing at the entry. The Belter was grinning at her. 

"Leaving anonymous gifts on your way out?" She asked, lightly. 

"I'd say don't tell him it's from me, but it's probably obvious," Chrisjen answered. 

Naomi came closer until they were standing at opposite ends of the compact table. She sighed deeply and Chrisjen saw a familiar conflict in her expression as she glanced away. 

Chrisjen knew what she was thinking. "It's okay to like me," she told Naomi.

Naomi laughed and looked at her, appraising her for a moment before she spoke. Chrisjen wouldn't expect anything less. Naomi never said anything she didn't mean and she measured her words carefully, something a politician could certainly appreciate. 

"When you first came onboard the Roci," Naomi said, "you point blank told Holden you wanted the protomolecule for Earth."

Chrisjen nodded slowly, confused. She didn't understand why it was relevant. "Yes," she replied simply. 

With a tiny shake of her head, she responded, "I remember how upset I was when you told him." Chrisjen's knit, still not understanding. "Because you did what I couldn't. I lied and I hid our sample and then I gave it to Fred behind their backs." She tilted her head, indicating the rest of the crew. 

Suddenly realizing what she was getting at, Chrisjen told her, "You were doing what you thought best." 

"Yeah, but you didn't even know us, not really, and it was so easy for you to just be honest. Even though James could've said no." Dropping her gaze, Naomi said, "I was so upset because you were brave enough to just say it. This upstart, entitled Earther-"

"Oh, come on," Chrisjen interrupted, hoping to avoid another sparring match. 

"Let me finish," Naomi held up a hand. "This Earther comes onto our ship and starts giving orders and everyone just listens, even Amos… and it made me so angry. Chrisjen Avasarala, oppressor of the Belt." 

Then it was Chrisjen whose face fell. "Naomi, I…" 

"I'm still not done," Naomi said quietly. "Your honest heart won us all over. The way you never held back, never tried to deceive us, always shot straight. You never disrespected me. More than anything, I always believed you were on my side." 

"I am," Chrisjen quickly told her before she was shushed again. "Always on your side."

"I believe you, and I can't thank you enough for what you're trying to do for the Belt." 

A slow smile came to Chrisjen's face. She thought back to the first encounter they'd had in this very room and how much had changed between them. Lifting her chin confidently, she said, "Maybe we will be friends after all." 

Naomi slowly nodded her agreement. They didn't need to say anything else. Chrisjen made her way out of the room, tenderly squeezing Naomi's arm as she walked by. 

As she made her way toward the main airlock, she was met by James Holden on the command deck. "You're not seriously leaving without saying goodbye." 

Smiling fully at him, she walked toward him. James opened his arms and pulled her into a loose embrace. She returned it, enjoying that James was the most light hearted out of all of them. Despite all he'd been through, he remained optimistic no matter what was happening, something she could use a little more of herself. 

Pulling back, she saw a friendly look on his face. "Okay," he said, "if you had to give me one piece of parting advice, what would it be?" 

"That's easy," she answered. Poking him in the chest, she told him, "Don't be a fucking idiot." 

He laughed lightly. "That is good advice." 

Smiling fading just a bit, she said, "I might need an envoy occasionally for these meetings with the Belters." 

Looking at her seriously, he replied, "Tell us when and where, we'll be there." 

"I wouldn't trust any other crew." 

"Damn right," he grinned. Reaching out, he took her hand. "Thank you," he said. "For the escape pod. I never thanked you." 

She squeezed his hand. "I'd say 'anytime,' but I'm never doing that again." 

They both gave a small laugh and he finished with, "I think someone's waiting for you." 

With a nod, she moved past him, setting back on her path to the airlock and off the ship. She knew she'd be back on it one day, probably sooner than later, and it was a happy thought. She grinned to herself at the irony of looking forward to another trip into space. 

Coming down another hallway, she found herself at the airlock. Rounding the corner, Chrisjen smiled brightly. There she was. Bobbie Draper, leaning casually against the open door airlock frame that would lead them back to the flight deck and to the shuttle that would take them to Earth. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she wore the tiniest grin. Hair pulled back into a smooth ponytail, clad in slacks and t-shirt, she was gorgeous. 

Pushing off the door frame, she came close to Chrisjen. Feeling Bobbie's hands at her hips was always calming. She allowed herself to be tugged against the tall woman's body. Strong arms wrapped around her and Chrisjen nuzzled into the crook of Bobbie's neck. 

"I thought I might have to drag you off this ship," Bobbie said gently. 

Chrisjen hummed, content in her spot. "No," she replied, almost whispering. "I'm ready." 

Pulling away from each other, Bobbie took her hand and led her out the airlock and onto the deck. "They're ready to go when we are." 

Sighing heavily, Chrisjen took one last glance over her shoulder as they walked a few berths over to the shuttle. Onto new things, she told herself. 

Speaking of which, she didn't miss the fact that Bobbie was holding her hand, fingers intertwined, as they made their way across the flight deck, filled with busy people. They weren't in a hurry and their hands held together loosely. Pressing her lips together, Chrisjen schooled the flutter in her chest. She didn't want to say anything lest Bobbie cease the contact. But then the Martian took a sideways look at her. 

"What?" Bobbie asked at the amused look on her companion's face. 

Trying to seem casual, Chrisjen answered, "Nothing, it's just…" she looked down at their joined hands. "This is the first time you've held my hand in public." 

Bobbie was incredulous. "No it's not!" 

"It is!" Chrisjen countered. 

Not putting up a fight, Bobbie quickly surrendered. "It might be." 

They grinned at each other. Tugging lightly on her hand, Chrisjen pulled her closer, wrapping her fingers around Bobbie's arm and leaning her cheek on her shoulder as they continued to meander their way to the shuttle. 

********************

It wasn't long before they were making their descent to New York. The closer they got to the surface, the more Chrisjen could feel the effects of gravity. She breathed out, welcoming it. For the first time in two months, it seemed like her feet were grounded to the floor. Her heart beat stronger and it felt right. 

Glancing next to her, she didn't see the same reaction from Bobbie. Her eyes were closed and brow knit as she swayed with the movement of the tiny ship. 

Chrisjen put a hand on her thigh, and Bobbie's eyes fluttered open. "You okay?" 

Bobbie swallowed thickly and nodded. "It gets better every time," she said, then added, "Still a bit uncomfortable." 

The transport landed with a shutter and Bobbie tried to hold in a slight groan. The shuttle door opened and they stood to their feet, Chrisjen easily, Bobbie a little slower. A couple UN people came aboard and began to off load their belongings. Chrisjen gave the young woman a moment to steady herself. 

"Thought you were a big, strong Martian," she joked. 

Attempting to smile, Bobbie responded, "Gravity sickness or not, I can whip any of these Earthers." 

With a chuckle, Chrisjen laid a hand on her shoulder. "That won't be necessary." 

They made their way off the shuttle. Bobbie was clearly feeling better after only a few minutes. Chrisjen knew when her lover's hand slipped back into hers. They came to a fork in the walkway. One way went into the UN building and the other to the garage where their vehicle was. 

Chrisjen pulled Bobbie toward the building at the same time Bobbie pulled her toward the garage. They turned and looked at each other. 

"I wanted to see my new office," Chrisjen said, pulling again. "Answer some messages." 

"You cannot be serious." Bobbie was flabbergasted. "We are not going in there." 

Chrisjen opened her mouth to protest, but the Martian gave a strong pull on her arm, silencing her with the sudden closeness. 

"Listen," Bobbie said firmly. "The only place we're going is home, to bed."

Looking at her flirtatiously, Chrisjen smirked. "To bed?" She lifted a hand to Bobbie's chest, shifting to put her fingers around the back of her neck. 

"Yes," Bobbie answered, unphased. "To bed, and we're going to sleep." Chrisjen pulled back, feigning offense. "I feel like I haven't slept in weeks, and the last thing I can handle is more politics." 

Chrisjen's playful demeanor fell away. Suddenly, she couldn't believe she'd even suggested walking into the UN. Bobbie had the right idea. Her Martian had earned a break. Especially considering she'd been in space for going on three months with only a two day break on Luna after the blast, which wasn't really a break. Chrisjen took her hand again, empathetic to the exhausted look on her face. 

"You called it home," she said. 

Bobbie's lips turned up at the observation. "So I did," she replied. With a gentle tug, she began leading them to the garage once again. "And we're going to go there and sleep." 

Resting her head on Bobbie's shoulder as they walked, Chrisjen suggested, "Let me make you something to eat." 

Bobbie lifted Chrisjen's hand to her lips, placing a tender kiss on her knuckles. "That sounds great." 

Only a few short hours later, their stomachs were full, their luggage delivered, and their bed turned down. Bobbie crawled between the sheets and collapsed with a satisfied moan. She stretched out happily, fluffing the blankets and adjusting her pillow. Amused, Chrisjen watched her in the mirror while she brushed her hair. 

"This is the best bed in the entire galaxy," Bobbie breathed, settling in. 

Setting her brush down, Chrisjen joined her, nestling next to her after turning the lamp off. She laid her head on Bobbie's chest and felt a steady arm come around her. Eyes closing, she smiled to herself at how domestic and perfect the moment was, how peaceful the world suddenly seemed. 

As was typical for Chrisjen, when she finally relaxed was when her mind couldn't turn off. She began replaying memories from the last several weeks. 

Out of nowhere, she quietly remembered, "I left a bracelet in the engine room."

Bobbie sighed. "I'm sure Amos will keep it for you." 

Chrisjen nodded against her chest. She continued to turn over thoughts. "I wonder if I could get Nancy and her cabinet to agree to a meeting on Medina." 

"Shhh." 

"It would be a good opportunity for them to see the multicultural layers of the Belters," she continued. 

Bobbie muttered, "Go to sleep." 

Staying silent for a bit, Chrisjen kept thinking. She took a breath, attempting to calm her mind. One last spoken thought, she told herself. 

"Do you think the Martians would-"

"Alright," Bobbie said, irritated. She pulled her arm away from Chrisjen and rolled onto her front. Propped on her elbows, she eyed the older woman. "I'm madly in love with you, but if you don't stop talking, I'm going to leave this bed and go sleep on the couch." She looked unwavering and Chrisjen acquiesced with a sigh. Roughly rolling back over, Bobbie suggested, "Just think about us on our vacation until you fall asleep." 

With a dramatic sigh, Bobbie fell silent again. Chrisjen looked at her with a grin. Moving in, she gave a gentle kiss to Bobbie's gorgeous lower lip as she drifted off. Laying her head down again, she found Bobbie to be correct. She imagined them together on a beautiful beach somewhere and felt her body becoming heavier. Slowly Chrisjen's weight settled on her lover and she fell into a deep sleep.

********************

1 WEEK LATER

Chrisjen had never seen a sunset this breathtaking. Maybe it was because they were in another hemisphere. Part of her thought it might be due to the newfound freedom she'd been enjoying. Either way, this particular mixture of pinks and golds was absolutely fascinating. 

Living in New York with a high rise office, she'd seen sunsets over the water for years. The way the orange light glistened on the waves was always beautiful, but this orange light and these waves were something different altogether. A smitten smile came to her face as she realized what set this view apart from others like it. 

She watched her Martian standing at the edge of the water, several meters down the beach. Her long hair blew in the ocean breeze. The thin strapped top and wrap skirt allowed the tone of her skin to be seen. Chrisjen couldn't help but think Bobbie belonged here. The glimmer of the sunset on her body was perfect. Bobbie was created to match these colors, to blend into this scene. It turned out the Martian was a puzzle piece that fit perfectly into the Samoan islandscape. 

From her spot sitting in the sand, Chrisjen admired the view of Bobbie walking the water's edge. They caught each other's gaze and Bobbie smiled back at her. Making her way up to Chrisjen, she held her hand out. 

"Come walk in the surf with me," she requested. 

How could Chrisjen say no? Taking her hand, Bobbie gently pulled her up. They began to wander their way, barefoot, through the sand. They held each other's hands, placing an occasional light kiss at one's shoulder or cheek. The gentle waves watched over their feet and ankles. 

"This is called the surf," Bobbie confidently informed her. 

Chrisjen chuckled. Of course, Bobbie knew she already knew that. "What else have you learned?" 

Bobbie proudly told her. "The vast majority of Earth's population lives in the northern hemisphere, which means the vast amount of Earth's pollution is there as well." She looked out toward the darkening orange and purple colors. "Apparently that makes the sunsets and sunrises here more vibrant." 

Chrisjen perked up, wondering if that may be the difference she had noticed earlier. However, taking another look at her companion, she dismissed the idea. Bobbie was definitely the difference. 

"The view is certainly gorgeous," Chrisjen replied, gaze still on the young woman. 

Bobbie glanced over. She pressed her lips together, trying not to smile too big at the compliment. "Stop it," she said quietly, and Chrisjen gave a small laugh. 

They made their way back to the bungalow they were staying in. It was up the beach, closer to the palm and tropical trees. Soon the sun would be gone and the spectacular array of stars would show itself. Washing the sand from their feet, they came inside. Every window in the small place was open and remained so, for the most part. Bobbie loved the ocean breeze and the sound of the waves coming inside. 

After a lifetime of being trapped indoors, never feeling the wind or the sun's warmth, Bobbie constantly wanted to be outside. Chrisjen was thoroughly enjoying seeing another side of Bobbie coming to life. She had never seen the Martian so carefree. Bobbie always had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Chrisjen had always thought she was far too young for such a burden and was happy to be a part of showing her what it meant to simply live. 

As they came in, Chrisjen asked, "Coffee?" 

Bobbie hummed, "Yeah, sounds good." 

Chrisjen wasn't surprised when she immediately walked out the back door and onto the wooden beam patio that looked out over the ocean. Bobbie couldn't get enough of the water. She found herself glancing up from her coffee making task to catch a view of her lover. She couldn't get enough of Bobbie. 

Making the drink according to how her companion currently liked it, Chrisjen headed outside. The more she introduced to Bobbie about coffee, the more her taste for it changed. Chrisjen was enjoying showing her more and more of Earth's cultures. The latest obsession was lavender and cream. 

Bobbie was standing at the railing of the patio. Slipping next to her, Chrisjen handed her a hot mug. 

"God, this is amazing," Bobbie happily, taking a few sips. "Thank you." 

"Of course." 

They stood there, enjoying their coffee, contentedly watching as the giant orange ball faded from view. The purple line of the horizon was all that was left. Chrisjen gave a slight shiver against the dropping temperature. Bobbie saw it. She wasn't really too cold, not with the constant warm breeze coming off the water. Still, she hoped the slight movement would elicit a certain response. Slowly, Bobbie came behind her, wrapping her arms around her and drawing Chrisjen's back snuggly against her front. This was more like it.

"Better?" Bobbie asked, running her hand up and down Chrisjen's arm to warm it. 

Chrisjen hummed a quiet, "Mmhmm," in answer. 

A moment later, Bobbie gently told her, "Thank you for bringing me here." 

The Earther snuggled further into strong arms. "Everyone should know where they come from." She added, "You seem so at ease here." 

"I feel at ease." Bobbie gave her body an affectionate squeeze. "For the first time in my life I feel like I'm where I belong." 

Observing the blanket of stars emerging above them, Chrisjen asked, "Do you miss Mars?" 

Bobbie sighed deeply like she was trying to think of how to answer. "I miss things about Mars." Another light squeeze at Chrisjen's waist. "But if I were there, I'd miss you so much more than I miss Mars." 

With a light brush of her fingers, Bobbie swept Chrisjen's thick hair off her neck and pressed her lips to the spot. Unconsciously leaning her head to the side, Chrisjen welcomed more contact. Bobbie peppered slow kisses from her soft hairline and across the slope of her shoulder. Her warm breath sent tingles through the older woman. 

Soon, they began to sway with each other's gentle movements. Chrisjen turned in Bobbie's arms and brought their lips together a little more enthusiastically than she meant to. However, Bobbie responded in kind, pulling Chrisjen roughly against her. It broke the kiss and drew their gazes. They looked at one another, eyes on fire, breathing picking up. 

Instantly deciding what she wanted, Chrisjen pushed Bobbie back toward the door, coffee mugs forgotten on the wooden railing. As she coaxed her lover inside, Chrisjen reached for the hem of Bobbie's flimsy top, quickly shedding her of it. Hands flying to perfect breasts, Chrisjen loved that she wasn't wearing a bra. Bobbie inhaled softly, encouraging her. She continued to gently nug Bobbie until her back hit the door. They kissed like mad, momentarily forgetting how to operate said door. Each of them had a hand fumbling on the knob, desperately trying to get inside and into bed. When the door opened, they practically fell through it, slamming it shut. 

Chrisjen gasped as she was shoved back against the door, Bobbie's hands securely at her hips. The move drew her eyes to her Martian's. Bobbie's lips were swollen from the hard kisses and parted with her panting breaths. Fuck, she was gorgeous. 

With an eyebrow raised, Bobbie said slowly and simply, "Slow down." 

Chrisjen tried to tame her breathing. She reached an arm around Bobbie's shoulders with a sly half smile. She gave a small nod and kissed Bobbie tenderly on the lips. Scratching her fingernails lightly over her ribcage, she felt Bobbie shiver and it definitely wasn't due to the temperature. Moving down, Chrisjen easily released the thin, flowing skirt from around her waist. No panties either. Heavenly. 

Forcing herself to stop kissing Bobbie, she grinned playfully. "This is certainly easier than getting you out of a flight suit." 

Bobbie gave a closed lipped smile in return. Threading her fingers into Chrisjen's hair she jested, "I could definitely get used to these beach clothes."

Chrisjen lightly laughed against Bobbie's lips, kissing her again. When Bobbie's hands left her hair and shifted downward to begin pulling her own clothing off, she gave a long exhale. She relaxed further as Bobbie dipped her head to give attention to Chrisjen's neck. The feeling of her lover's silken tongue at her pulse point had her melting. A wave of heat swept through her and she was grateful for the cool air that passed over her skin as Bobbie slipped the shirt over her shoulders. The only noise to be heard was the sound of their kisses and ragged breathing and far away waves sweeping the beach. 

She was suddenly glad Bobbie had slowed their pace. It gave her time to appreciate the Martian's naked and perfect body under her hands. Unable to stop herself, Chrisjen began to nudge Bobbie backward toward the bedroom. The young woman allowed herself to be led, continuing on with her goal of getting Chrisjen out of her clothing. 

Soon they came across the bedroom threshold, Bobbie's arms tightly around Chrisjen. Their lips moved together against one another, fueling embers that always seemed to be smoldering just under the surface between them. The back of Chrisjen's legs bumped the bed. Bobbie didn't miss a beat, scooping her up and slowly, reverently lowering her onto the soft blankets, gazes locked. 

Bobbie moved to straddle her hips. She spread her fingers over Chrisjen's torso, tenderly stroking her thumbs over her skin. They watched each other. There was never any awkwardness between them. Nothing one did or didn't do ever made the other uncomfortable. So when Bobbie stayed there, eyes roaming over her face and body, Chrisjen didn't stop her. She didn't try to speak and break the silence. She just waited. 

Finally, Bobbie whispered, "You're beautiful." 

Chrisjen smiled softly. She trailed her fingertips up and back down Bobbie's thighs. "And you're stunning." Unable to ignore the growing throbbing deep inside, she said, "Now if you don't fuck me senseless…" 

Bobbie burst into laughter and Chrisjen let the sentence fade. She loved that sound, Bobbie laughing. The Martian didn't make her wait. She leaned down to press a hard kiss to Chrisjen's mouth. Promptly moaning into the contact, Chrisjen didn't hold back. When Bobbie lips left hers to work their way over Chrisjen's body, she didn't try to keep the sounds of arousal from coming. 

As Bobbie touched her and played her body like an instrument she'd studied for years, Chrisjen's only conscious thought was that she didn't want this to end. Every tingle, every goosebump, every swell of feeling in her core only confirmed that she wanted to spend the rest of her life making love with Bobbie Draper. 

When her orgasm rocked her, Bobbie's arm wrapped around her steadied her as her head swam. Chrisjen sank into the mattress with a satisfied groan. She pulled Bobbie down into her, both arms tightly around her as the happy aftershocks rippled through.

She didn't think she would ever understand the two of them, how they worked. A Martian marine, defecting to her enemy because she can't tolerate the idea of deception and lies and being a pawn. Bobbie left everything behind, twice. An Earther who would stop at nothing to uncover the truth, even if it meant trusting in a Martian defector and compromising the carefully laid plans of her own government and committing treason. 

They were the most unlikely pair - different cultures, different home worlds, decades apart in their age, but neither could imagine life without the other. It had taken them so long to get here. It was the protomolecule and the attack on Ganymede that had set their meeting into motion. Then came Bobbie's defection and that fateful event on the Guanshiyin that brought them aboard the Rocinante. Next, the campaign to IO, weeks in space with Bobbie, falling in love so seamlessly they didn't even realize it until they were apart again. The insanity of the Ring Gate's appearance and Bobbie's dishonourable discharge had driven them so far apart, neither thought they would find each other again. They did, though, because they'd gotten under each other's skin and into one another's hearts. 

Her heart beat finally calming, Chrisjen quietly asked, "Do you remember when we first met?" 

Bobbie chuckled against her chest. "How could I ever forget?" She lifted her head and propped an elbow on either side of her lover. "I'd never seen anything like you." 

Chrisjen reached her fingers to tenderly outline Bobbie's face. "You were caught in the middle of something." She gave a tiny shake of her head. "I knew instantly you hated it." 

"When you found me by the ocean, I wanted to hate you for what you were asking me to do." She leaned down to leave a ghost of a kiss at her lover's lips. 

Chrisjen's expression became torn. "What I asked of you wasn't fair." 

"You were right to ask," Bobbie assured her. "And I'm so glad you did. You trusted your gut, like you always do." 

Hands slipping to the flawless skin of Bobbie's cheeks, Chrisjen said, "Look at us now." 

"I've gone and fallen for you completely," her Martian confessed and it was music to Chrisjen's ears.

"Me too." She pulled Bobbie in for another kiss. "I want to spend every day of the rest of my life with you." 

Bobbie's smile was beautiful. "I want that too." 

They looked at each other, confident in their decisions, grateful that each one had brought them here. They relaxed into one another, knowing they had time to do whatever the hell they wanted to together. Right now, all Chrisjen wanted was to stay like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for staying with me to the end! Can't wait to see what's in store on the show for these women.


End file.
